Conundrum
by Cofkett
Summary: "Love - real love - is resilient, loyal and unselfish. Love waits - even when things are at their hardest, their most impossible." - AU. My entry for the 2014 Castle Summer Hiatus Ficathon. Beta reader: Shutterbug5269.
1. What He Wanted

**Special thanks to my beta, Shutterbug5269, who has not one but two ficathon entries of his own this year (Actually I'm pretty sure he did that last year, too). Go check them out.**

**I do apologise to followers of my other stories ; they are all temporarily on hold... But I am determined to finish each and every one of them . This story has followed me for so long, I had to write it. **

**There will be things in this story that will confuse you. There will be things that don't seem to make sense. All will be revealed in good time. **

* * *

"Katie, I'm so glad I finally got through to you."

Kate smiled and shook her head. She'd gotten three texts and four missed calls from her mother in the last hour, which she had missed due to being... preoccupied with her fiancé.

Josh had only just left for the hospital after being paged. She had known coming into this relationship that he worked crazy hours, just as he had known the same about her, but she was glad to have someone to talk to in his absence.

"Hey, Mom, was there something wrong with the painting?"

"No, no, it's beautiful; I still can't believe you went to all that trouble."

"No trouble, it was Mothers' Day. So what's the big emergency?"

"I just wanted to let you know that Richard Castle is on_ Mickey Reed_ tonight."

Kate rolled her eyes. She had been something of a fan of the best-selling author in her youth. As work and life had gotten busier her obsession had lessened but Johanna was always sure to tell her of any news to do with the author. For the most part, she found this hilarious, but there were times when the news was a little more sobering, like his recent battle with cancer. Since that scare, she'd gone back to his work, rediscovering his classic stuff as well as trying out the books she hadn't gotten around to reading. She had just read the last book he'd released before his diagnosis, _Homage to a Murder_, and loved it. She had already pre-ordered his next book, the first since going into remission.

"I know, Mom, I already have _The Late Shift_ on."

"Oh, alright. Well, I won't keep you."

"Hey, that's ok. I'll DVR it."

"Oh, I have to be getting to bed any way. Your father always wakes me up when he goes fishing and I want to get some sleep."

"How _is _the simple life treating you, Mom?"

"Katie, it's great. Really, I love retirement. I just wish your father would let me get Wi-Fi for the cabin but apparently that would 'spoil the experience'."

Kate laughed.  
"Ok, well, I'll let you go. Get some sleep. I love you, Mom."

"Love you, too, Katie."

As she hung up the phone, Kate turned up the volume. Richard Castle would be on soon.

* * *

Rick slumped onto his bed in exhaustion. Why did his publicist have to book him on a live show that aired so late at night? Yes, he had been a frequent guest when Bobby Mann had been alive and hosting, but he'd been younger then; before the explosion that had torn the city apart again, unleashing the radiation that had caused him and many others to be struck by cancer. Before the chemo and radiotherapy had attacked his body along with his disease. When he was a playboy and not an embarrassing excuse for a man who'd all but lost his libido, who was still recovering from a bone- marrow transplant. When he'd enjoyed the rich, ladies' man lifestyle; the schmoozing, the mindless laughter at his cheesy jokes, the women, the endless praise. There had been a time when he had gotten bored of the tedium of it all, but even then, he'd still loved it, still basked in the perks of being Richard Castle. Now? He was just tired, and being at the studio for an hour, not leaving until ten-thirty at night, for a five-minute guest-spot pimping out a book, the success of which he frankly didn't care about one way or the other, was not how he wanted to spend his time these days.

He _wanted_ to get to the bottom of the bombing; there had always been something about the story that didn't make sense. His attempts to find out the truth were not exactly a secret and he didn't know what was worse; those who pitied him, seeing him as a desperate man seeking an answer for his hardships; or those who threw him in with the crazy unpatriotic conspiracy theorists - not that he hadn't enjoyed a good conspiracy theory in his time but this was different.

He_ wanted _to spend more time with Alexis. Of course, it had been he who had persuaded her to move into a dorm this year after staying at the loft to take care of him since his diagnosis. He wanted her to have the true college experience. But he appreciated the time they did get to spend together on a much deeper level now.

He also wanted to see the new _Star Wars_ movie.

To be honest, what he really wanted to do was down a glass of scotch - against doctor's orders - close his eyes and block out the world for a few hours. He was tempted by the scotch idea, but instead, he got changed, went back to bed and willed his mind to conjure a dream of a different reality; anything other than this one. He was grateful that he had survived, but there were times he really didn't want to be here, times he wished he was somewhere else. This was one of those times.

He was so very tired.

* * *

Kate looked up from her book when Josh entered the room. He kicked off his shoes and she smiled as he climbed into bed next to her and hugged her from behind.

"Sorry about that," he said. "Heart attack turned out to be a case of angina. "

"Well that's alright," she said, indicating her book, "I had Richard Castle to keep me company."

Josh chuckled at the back-cover photo of the author.

"You've been spending an awful lot of time with that man lately. Should I be jealous?"

She shrugged.  
"I don't know. He _is_ ruggedly handsome. "

Josh feigned offence.  
"And I'm not? "

"Well, I'll give you _rugged_."

He chuckled and kissed her.

"I think I need to turn in," she said. "I have court tomorrow. "

"Ok, I have to take a shower. I'll try to be quiet. "

"Ok, goodnight. "

"Night. Give my regards to Mr. Castle. "

She grinned.  
"I will. "

* * *

Martha poured herself a cup of coffee.

Rick walked through the door of his study slowly, an odd look on his face.

"Good morning, Darling. I'm sorry you can't have coffee yet but there's still some grape-juice left."

"Ok," Rick said vaguely as he walked to the counter in a daze, sitting down.

"Kiddo, is everything alright? "

"I think so," he said quietly. "I feel... lighter. "

"Oh Richard, were you sick? I thought you were doing better. Should I call the doctor?"

"Doctor? No, no I'm fine, I just... had a bad dream. "

"Oh, well... was there a murder in it? Because Gina has been pushing you for the next manuscript and I don't want you to feel obligated or pressured to take on more than you can handle but a little inspiration couldn't hurt. "

"Gina's always pushing me for the next manuscript. I've got better things with which to occupy myself. Speaking of, where's Kate?"

Martha stared blankly at him.  
"Kate? Doesn't sound familiar. Have you started dating again? Is Kate a new... _lady friend_? Because if so, I'm glad you - "

"Very funny, Mother. Did Kate put you up to this?"

"Kiddo, if this Kate person stayed here last night, I haven't seen her. Maybe she left. "

"Ok, Mother, this isn't cute any more. Katherine. Kate Beckett. Where is she? "

"Darling, you're starting to scare me. Am I supposed to know who this Kate is? "

"I would hope so, seeing as she's your future daughter-in-law. "

"Future daughter-in-law? Richard, you didn't get engaged again so soon after surgery, did you? Oh, Darling, you do this every time something bad happens. First, you married Meredith much too quickly after Kyra broke your heart, and then after Gina's miscarriage you popped the question again; and now, you're - "

"Mother, this is ludicrous. Why are you bringing up my past love life when you can't even remember my current fiancée? Is this an early sign of dementia? Do you know what year it is?"

"Richard, you're being absurd."

"I'm being absurd?! Mother - " Just then, he caught his own reflection in one of the kitchen pots. He froze. After a moment, he jumped up and rushed out of the kitchen.

"Richard -"

Rick ignored his mother calling after him as he ran to his bathroom. He stared at himself in the mirror, tracing the shape of his reflected features on the glass, before moving his hands to the real thing. His own mother didn't remember Beckett. He had woken up a good sixty pounds lighter than he had last remembered being - not in a good way - and his face looked pale.

He went back into the bedroom, confusion setting in with everything he saw that shouldn't be. He had been still half-asleep when he first awakened but now the differences were a lot more obvious. Everything was ostensibly the same but...every trace of Kate Beckett was gone. Her clothes, her scent...even the framed seashells he'd hung there himself were missing. Instead, Linus hung in his former place like he had never left.

He pinched himself.

"Ow!"

This didn't appear to be a dream. If it wasn't, what kind of messed up Bizarro world had he woken up to find himself in?


	2. Nightmare Within a Nightmare

**Thanks again to my beta, Shutterbug 5269.**

**Thank you to everyone already following this story. I'm going to briefly address some reviews from people who were either anonymous or don't have pming switched in. This story has Josh in it, yes, and Josh will not be portrayed in a negative light. But he's there for a reason and this is ultimately about Castle and Beckett.**

**I can neither confirm nor deny whether there will be a happy ending. I know the ending, but you'll have to read to find out. I'm sorry. Not saying there will be a horribly depressing ending, but it is not all going to be super happy fun-times. This is a love story. It isn't necessarily a fairy tale .**

**To the guest who is concerned about me abandoning this story to start a new one, I understand where you're coming from. The difference with this story is I have already written quite a bit. The reason those other stories are on hold is that I'm not writing anything else until I've finished this one. That means no new stories barring the occasional short one-shot. These are my intentions. There is always the risk of life getting in the way. But I will do my best.**

* * *

When he had first woken up in his warm bed, he had been relieved that his experience of being kidnapped had apparently been a nightmare. Then, as he realized that this reality was not the one he knew, he'd thought he was living a nightmare within a nightmare. He had no idea what was real and what wasn't. Had that car crashed into his?

Had he been tied to a chair in a basement for days, maybe weeks? Had Beckett even been married previously? Had the whole Rogan O'Leary debacle been a part of his dream? Why had he felt pain when he'd pinched himself?

Was he going insane? Had he fallen off that cliff with his car? Was this hell; life without Beckett? A sickening thought took hold of him and he returned to the living room.

"Oh, Richard, are you alright? " Martha asked with concern.

"Alexis," he said.

"She's upstairs," Martha said. "She said she'd be up early, packing to go back to her dorm in Columbia."

Castle's whole body relaxed. Whatever was happening here, he knew he could live in a world without Beckett. Not that he wanted to (the very notion made his stomach turn) but he could do it. A world without Alexis, however, was not a world in which he wanted to live.

He headed towards the stairs.

"Uh, Richard, it may not be the best idea for her to see you in your current state of mind," Martha said.

Castle turned back to put a hand on Martha's shoulder.

"Mother, I can't pretend to understand what's happening to me, and I have always been honest with Alexis - " He hesitated. He still wasn't sure of every discrepancy between this world and the one he remembered. According to his mother's earlier rant, his history with women pre-Beckett was more or less the same here. But that didn't mean everything else was the same. What if his parenting style was different in this reality?

"Right?" he asked his mother for confirmation.

"Right," she replied.

He nodded.  
"But until I understand what's going on with me, it's probably best not to worry her," he said. "I just - I want to see her."

"Of course you do," said Martha. "Oh, Darling, after everything you've been through in the past two years, I'm surprised you've managed to keep it together as long as you have. "

Castle nodded, choosing to ignore this for now.

"We'll... discuss this later, ok, Mother?"

"Of course, Richard," she said, patting his arm.

* * *

He swore the staircase was longer than he remembered. Each step was an effort. He was slightly out of breath when he finally reached the top. Alexis's door was partially open. For a moment, he just watched her sorting her things into boxes. She looked just the same as he remembered.

Her head came up and she smiled.  
"Dad," she said. "Hey."

"Alexis," he croaked, running to take her in his arms. Dream or not, he'd believed he was going to die, fearing the prospect of never being able to hold her again. She didn't seem surprised by his show of affection.

She rubbed his back gently and looked up at him.  
"I'm going to miss you, too," she said. "But I'll still visit on weekends."

Castle smiled.  
" I'm so proud of you. Do I ever tell you that? "

She bowed her head bashfully.  
"Only every day."

He sighed in relief.

Alexis's phone rang. She dismissed the call.·

"Is everything ok?"

"Yeah," she said, squeezing his hand before returning to her packing. "It was just Max. Nothing you should worry about."

"Max?" _ Was she talking about her ex-boyfriend, Max? _Castle thought to himself.

"It's nothing," Alexis said, "he just - he wants me to move in with him. Don't worry; I said no. We 're not ready for that. I mean, we've only been dating about sixteen months."

_So, not so much an ex in this world. Good to know. _

"_Only_?"

"Ok, so maybe it's been a while but I don't want to rush it. It's a huge step and not something I take lightly."

_Seriously?_ Castle thought, but said nothing.

"I mean, you know that I haven't exactly been sure about Max for a while but...he's been so good to me. He's been there for me through your treatments and the surgery. I need someone reliable, someone I know I can count on, and Max ticks all the boxes."

Castle froze. The treatments; the surgery; not to mention his weight and complexion were all being added up in his mind and he didn't like the answer he came up with.

Even his hair had looked shorter when he'd looked in the mirror. He ran his hands through it now. It felt spiky and sparse. His mother's comments came into focus with a new clarity.

_Oh, God._

"Dad?" Alexis said, looking concerned. "Are you ok? Do you need to lie down? "

"Uh... you know, I think that might be a good idea," Castle said.

"You're doing so well, Dad. There's colour in your cheeks - "

Just how pale had he been before?

"And you wrote an amazing book," she continued. "But it's good that you're not overdoing it."

He hugged her again so that she couldn't see his worried expression.

* * *

After Alexis had left, Castle and Martha picked up where they had left off.

"Mother, I am going to ask you something, and I don't want you to freak out over the fact that I don't know the answer, ok?" Castle said.

"Ok," Martha replied.

They sat down on the couch and Castle took a deep breath before jumping in.  
"Did I have cancer?" he asked.

Martha pursed her lips and paused.  
"Leukaemia," she confirmed.

"But I don't any more, right?" he asked, avoiding her gaze and peering at her cautiously through the corner of his eye.

"You've been in remission for the past three months but you're still recovering from a bone-marrow transplant," Martha said. "Darling, just how much do you remember?"

"I don't know," said Castle. "I can't tell which parts I remember and which parts are imagined. I can't even tell if any of this is real."

"Did this start when you woke up this morning or has it been going on longer?" Martha asked.

"I have no idea," Castle replied. "The last thing I remember is being tied up in a basement. "

"That never happened - well not in the recent past, anyway," Martha said. "Whatever you've been up to in the past is your business. Of course, I am not judging. Lord knows I've had my fair share of adventurous trysts. "

Castle shook his head and ran his hand through his hair.  
"Before that, I was on the way to my house in the Hamptons to get married," he said.

"I'm guessing the bride was Kate," Martha surmised.

"Yes, it was Kate," Castle confirmed.

"Well, it's not that I know every detail of your love-life but you have never mentioned a Kate. I don't - I'm sorry, darling, but I don't think she exists. "

Castle's face fell; he had already considered that possibility but somehow, hearing it out loud hurt not only emotionally but physically, too.

"I just - I can't imagine her not being real," he said. "She's been such a big part of my life for so long. I have six years of memories. I could describe the exact shade of hazel in her eyes in perfect detail. The precise shape and colour of the beauty mark on her cheek. I remember exactly what she smells like: cherry scented perfume on days she works; coconuts when she has the day off. And always with an underlying combination of skin and natural scent that is uniquely Kate. I know how she moves, how her voice goes down an octave when she's pissed about something and when she's at work. I know how she looks at me sometimes... the love that comes out of a mere gaze. Are you telling me I made all that up in one night? "

"Well, sweetheart, you are very talented - " Martha started.

"This makes no sense!" Castle exclaimed. "Kate is real!"

"Ok, I believe that you truly believe that," said Martha.

"Are you kidding me, Mother? That's what you say to a crazy person!"

"Well, with all due respect, Richard, dear, that's how you sound right now."

Castle shook his head incredulously.

"On the bright side, you _do_ have a house in the Hamptons," Martha said.

"Well, that makes me feel a lot better." He sighed. "What's happening to me, Mom? " he asked desperately, using a name he'd rarely called her since he was a boy.

"I don't know, Richard, but we'll find out. I'll call Dr. Kale."

"Who's that? "

"She's your oncologist."

* * *

"Well, Mr. Castle,", Dr. Kale said, "by all evidence, your brain is functioning normally. The MRI picked up no abnormalities. No changes since your last check-up. Whatever is happening to you doesn't appear to be neurological and is probably unrelated to your Leukaemia. I'll have the lab run your blood-work to be sure, but all evidence points to you still being cancer free. "

"So what does that mean?" Castle asked.

"I'm going to refer you to a psychiatrist to rule out mental illness, " Dr. Kale replied.

"A crazy test?"

"Mr. Castle, mental illness is a disease like any other," Dr. Kale said. "Besides, it's just a precaution. Psychosomatic memory loss is not unheard of after experiencing the kind of trauma you've been through recently. "

"But it's not just memory loss," Castle pointed out.

"Your particular case is a little unusual, but I can understand how a man with a creative mind such as yours would want to imagine something better for himself," Dr. Kale said. "I don't think I have a patient who wouldn't want to forget the pain and discomfort of chemotherapy, radiation treatments and bone-marrow transplant recovery. I also think it best that you continue to see that therapist I referred you to. Your mother has her details. My understanding is those sessions are going quite well. "

"Exactly how many quacks do I need?" Castle asked.

"Richard, don't be rude," Martha admonished her son. "Thank you, Doctor."


	3. A World Without Her

He scrolled though his phone, searching every folder and app for her name, anything that proved her existence, to no avail. None of her pictures, nor any of her text messages; no reminders of her birthday or their anniversary were in his calendar. He tried calling her number anyway. It was an active number, but it wasn't Beckett who answered; instead it was an accountant from the Upper East Side who'd had the same number for ten years and had never heard of anyone by the name of Kate Beckett.

* * *

"_Mr. Castle, are you still on the line_?" the desk sergeant from the homicide department at the Twelfth Precinct told him.

"Yes, I'm here," Castle replied.

"_I'm sorry, but there is neither a Javier Esposito nor a Kevin Ryan currently working in this division, and no record of anyone by either name ever working in Homicide at this precinct. Would you like me to transfer you to a different division_?"

"No. Uh... no, it's ok."

"_Is there anything I can help you with_?"

"No, don't worry; it's... it's nothing urgent. You probably have more pressing matters to attend to. I'm sorry to have wasted your time. Thank you. "

* * *

He was vaguely aware he probably shouldn't be out and about while apparently recovering from a bone-marrow transplant but he needed to know if she was out there. He noted that New York was still New York; at least the parts he was travelling. He knew the way to his destination by heart. The building looked just as he remembered, but as a lifelong New Yorker it wasn't outside the realm of possibility that he'd seen it before, stored it in his subconscious and used it as part of his delusion. Even after everything he'd seen thus far, part of him still felt disappointed when the voice over the intercom wasn't hers. Part of him still hoped this was some cruel joke being played on him, or at least that even if they had never met, she was still real somehow.

As a fan of his, the current tenant happily buzzed him up and welcomed him to have a look around what he knew as Beckett's apartment, his cover story being he'd known someone who'd lived there years ago. The apartment's layout was also exactly as he remembered it; then again, many apartments had the same layout. It was decorated very differently, with not a hint of Becket's artistic decor. Not a hint of Beckett.

The tenant informed him she'd lived there since 2010 and the previous owner had been a male Danish chef. He signed one of her Derek Storm novels and politely left.

* * *

When he returned home, he went straight to his study. The section he reserved for his own work was in the same place, only noticeably smaller. The Nikki Heat books were conspicuously absent along with the additional Derek Storm books released after Storm Fall. In their place were a few books about a certain British spy. Books credited to Ian Fleming, which he found curious. He'd never heard of any of these titles before. The publishing dates were relatively recent considering that Fleming had passed away in 1964. It seemed he hadn't imagined that offer and it would stand to reason that if Kate Beckett never existed, then neither would Nikki Heat. Minus the success of Heat Wave and the chance to follow his favourite homicide detective around there would have been no reason to turn down such an amazing opportunity. There was one more book: a standalone novel. He read the blurb and left it on his desk, and not just because the storyline opened up a whole flood of questions he wasn't ready to ask yet.

The British Spy books were one thing; he'd spent his childhood imagining adventures for that character, some of which he'd given to Derek Storm and some he'd never been able to incorporate into his own work. Those books were probably something along those lines. This book, however, was completely foreign to him. The idea that he could have written an entire novel without remembering a word hurt his brain. He had no interest in reading it; at least right now. Sighing, he retreated to his bedroom and collapsed onto a bed that smelled wrong; onto sheets that were too cold without the warm body that should be next to his; head resting on a pillow that was missing the long, brown strands of hair that should be there. He welcomed sleep in a pathetic attempt to block out the pain of living in a world in which the love of his life didn't exist.

* * *

**Another big thanks to Shutterbug5269, whose contributions to this chapter were many.**

**Thank you to everyone who is reading this story. I have published responses to guest reviews on my tumblr (link in my profile). Please don't read on a mobile device if you'd like to avoid spoilers for how the story pans out.**


	4. Missing

**Acknowledgements to Shutterbug5269, for adding a little more gravity to this chapter.**

**I'm glad to know that some people are enjoying this story. None of the reviews have been abusive or flamey in any way, I've just been a little surprised by some of the negative assumptions that have been made about what this fic is going to be. The word _Conundrum_ refers to a confusing and difficult problem or question; a puzzle designed to be solved.**

**I'm loving the theories; keep them coming. :)**

* * *

Castle didn't want to open his eyes. He wanted to hear her voice, to feel her lips against his skin, to hear the stream of water coming from his bathroom; anything that would tell him this entire day had been a long, crazy, vivid dream and he was back in the real world with her. If it wasn't, if this world without Beckett was real, he didn't want to know. Unfortunately his mother burst his bubble by knocking on his door and reminding him of the appointment with the psychiatrist Dr. Kale had referred him to.

* * *

Castle stared at the psychiatrist expectantly after laying out the whole story for him as he sat across from the middle-aged man in his office.

"So, what's the verdict, Doc? Am I crazy?" Castle asked, not really wanting the answer.

"Mr. Castle, you've been under a lot of - " the psychiatrist began.

"Stress, yeah, so I've been told," Castle said, cutting him off.

"I don't believe that this is schizophrenia or any other kind of psychosis," the man replied, seemingly un-phased by the interruption. "The way you seem to have rewritten events in your own life to incorporate your delusions fascinates me."

"So that's what you think it is?" Castle asked. "Is that what you think _she _is? Nothing more than a delusion?"

"As you're unable to tell me how long this has been going on," the man offered in the same irritatingly calm tone he'd used for the last hour, "I can't be sure of that. You'll have to come back and see me in a month to get a more accurate diagnosis."

"A _month_?" Castle responded indignantly.

"For me to diagnose you with Unspecified Delusional Disorder, the symptoms would have to have lasted at least that long," he replied.

"I might not still be here in a month! Or at least, I _hope_ I'm not, anyway."

"Mr. Castle, what I believe to be most likely here is simply your way of coping with something you can't control. My suggestion to you would be to continue to see your therapist, spend some time with your daughter and mother, write, concentrate on your recovery, get plenty of rest and if you still don't recognise the world around you as reality in a month's time, come back to see me and we'll assess where to go from there. "

* * *

After returning home, Castle selected John Coltrane's instrumental cover of _My Favourite Things_ on the stereo and blared it at full volume as he stared at the ceiling.

He had always liked jazz but had never truly appreciated it until he had begun to listen to it with Kate. She'd taken him to jazz clubs, introduced him to more obscure artists in her collection, though he knew her favourites were the classics; the legends of the genre - Sinatra, Nina Simone and yes, Coltrane, among many others. She would sometimes put on a playlist of classic jazz for them to make love to.

He could clearly recall the feel of her skin on his as he moved inside her while this particular track played; her hot breath in his ear as she laughed when he sang along and demonstrated all of his favourite things which happened to coincide with parts of her body.

* * *

He slept for the rest of the afternoon. At around four o'clock, Dr. Kale called to inform him his blood test results had all come back normal. As far as she could tell, there was nothing physically wrong with him. He thanked his doctor and returned to bed, going back to sleep.

He missed her.


	5. Recollections

**Thank you, Shutterbug5269. Cofkett very sleepy now. Cofkett go night-night.**

* * *

When Castle's mother had told him his therapist was a woman, he hadn't known what to expect, but he supposed he'd expected someone put-together; a professional-looking type like Dr. Kale. To his surprise, she appeared to be none of those things. This woman had, at the very least, a good ten years on him and looked like a flower child straight out of the sixties. Her office even smelled of incense. Castle was an open-minded sort of fellow with a lot of odd friends, but he wasn't sure he wanted to trust this woman with his mental health.

"Well, Rick, I understand introductions are once again in order. I'm Maureen, your therapist," she said, shaking his hand. "Please take a seat."

He sat on her couch uneasily.

"So, Rick, do you remember me or any of our previous sessions at all?" she asked.

"I'm afraid not," he replied.

She regarded him closely for a moment.  
"You really don't, do you?"

"Did you think I was making it up?" he asked.

"I would be lying if I said the thought hadn't crossed my mind. It has been my experience that you are fond of practical jokes," Maureen pointed out. "You wasted three sessions trying to convince me you had dissociative identity disorder."

Castle chuckled in spite of himself. "That sounds like something I would do."

"I do miss Stefan the parking inspector sometimes. He was a nice touch; you almost had me fooled with that one," she said wistfully. "Any way, Rick, though I'm a little disappointed you were sent to somebody else at first, I understand your doctor needing to get a diagnosis from an MD. As a typical psychiatrist, he is making you wait a month, but in the meantime, I'm happy to continue to see you. I've been filled in on your situation, but maybe you should tell me in your own words."

Castle took a deep breath before he spoke.

"Ok. Um... well, it would seem that I'm in love with a woman nobody remembers except me. Her name is Kate Beckett. I don't remember getting cancer. I distinctly remember consulting for the NYPD with her. I remember every single case and everything about Kate in intimate detail. My mother, however, tells me none of it is real."

"Do you believe her?" she asked.

"I don't believe she's lying to me. Based on the evidence, her story does appear to make more sense than mine. She has no motive to lie to me about something like this," he replied. "That doesn't mean I believe she's right."

"So, you believe that this... _Kate_ is real, and so are these other memories," Maureen concluded.

"I don't care if you think I'm crazy," Castle said emphatically, his voice taking on a harder edge. "I don't care what anyone says. I know in my heart and with every fibre of my being that she's real. I know that I didn't make her up. Frankly, I'm not that good a writer."

"Well, you have a point there," Maureen stated casually.

Castle looked up, shocked out of his sudden tirade.  
"What? Uh - do - do you not think I'm a good writer?"

"You're the one who said it, Rick; I'm merely agreeing with you," Maureen replied.

"Well, aren't you supposed to make me feel better?" Castle tossed back. Despite his bruised ego, he was slowly starting to understand why he had apparently chosen this woman.

"I'm not here to tell you what you need to hear, Rick." Maureen pointed out, "I'm here to help you. I'm not saying you're not skilled, but I did do my research. I've read a good deal of your work and you've told me your process. You draw from real experiences a lot, correct?"

He shrugged. "Perhaps I do."

"Have you ever met anyone like this Kate Beckett character?" she asked.

"I don't know," he replied.

"From the memories that you possess, other than Kate Beckett herself, have you ever known _anyone_ like her?" she enquired.

He paused, reflecting on the question before replying, "No. I mean, I have known strong, complex women - you could say it's my type but... none were like Kate. The closest I ever came was... Well, she wasn't really anything like her but in my mind... There was a woman named Sophia Turner."

"Clara Strike," she offered, nodding.

Castle found Maureen's intimate familiarity with his life unnerving. He had no recollection of how much he'd told her before today.

"Clara Strike was the closest character to Kate in my life... well, other than Nikki Heat, but apparently I never wrote those books."

"Is Kate similar to Sophia?" she asked.

"No!" Rick stated emphatically. "The Clara Strike character evolved in to a much different person, and anything that remained which may have been inspired by Sophia Turner, as it turns out, was a lie."

"Interesting that you would say that," Maureen observed.

"Why?" Castle asked. "Why is that interesting?"

She studied him for a moment.  
"I think that's a topic for another day. So, tell me if I have this right: Clara started out like Sophia but she ended up being more like - "

"Kate," Castle finished, familiarity that he knew was more than déjà vu washing over him. He'd had this conversation with Beckett already. Either this therapist was extremely insightful or she wasn't real; merely a figment of his own imagination.

"You began by modelling Clara Strike on Sophia Turner, but as time went on, Clara became more than that. She became her own character, the woman you needed her to be. She became the kind of woman that you've always wanted for yourself, but it wasn't enough. You wanted to find the real thing. At a point in your life when you didn't think an intimate relationship was possible, but were craving that emotional intimacy and support, you conjured up Kate."

"Just... out of the blue?" Rick asked sceptically.

"Rick, this wasn't out of the blue at all. It was a result of years of romantic frustration paired with desperation during a very difficult time. I don't believe you were consciously aware you were creating her until she emerged, fully formed, into your conscious mind, complete with a vivid back-story worthy of any good heroine."

"Is that even possible?"

"I've witnessed stranger things in this job. The human mind is capable of many of things given the right amount of stress. Rick, you have shared a lot with me over the past two years, and you have never once mentioned Kate before. I don't believe there is anything seriously psychologically wrong with you. I think you just... your subconscious mind gave you what you needed to cope with a traumatic situation."

"Well, I'm not coping," Rick retorted, his frustration mounting as he spoke, "I'm perfectly fine with being in remission from cancer. It's better than still _having_ cancer, anyway. Why the hell would I need to make up a fantasy girlfriend _now_?"

"I don't know." Maureen shrugged. "But I can help you find out - if you want to."

"You're not going to be able to convince me that I'm wrong about this," Castle replied, "I don't know what's happening to me, but I _know_ that Kate Beckett is real. I _know_ that what we shared is real, and I know her and... I love her."

"Will you humour me, at least, and answer some questions?" Maureen asked.

"What do you want to know?"

"What's the last thing you remember?" she asked.

"Well, that's even more complicated," he replied. "I remember being in a dark room, tied to a metal chair... I was groggy, like I had been in there for days, maybe more, maybe less. I don't know. The last thing I remember was wishing I could be somewhere else, anywhere else. Next thing I knew I was in my bedroom."

"Do you remember how you came to be in this dark room?" Maureen asked quietly, not wanting to distract him from his recollections.

"I was driving in my Mercedes," Castle said. "It was our wedding day and I was on the phone with Kate. I told her I loved her before I hung up and then a car...no...wait...it was an SUV...a black one... came out of nowhere and... started bumping into the back corner of mine, trying to run me off the road... I pulled over and jumped out of the car but they were ready for me."

_"They_?"

"Men in balaclavas. I'm not sure how many. They grabbed me. I struggled against them but there were too many of them. The key was still in the ignition. I realised here was another SUV, I'm not sure where it came from. One of the SUVs ran my car off a cliff and I was taken into the other one. There was a crash and I must have blacked out. Then I was in the dark room like I told you... I floated in and out of consciousness until I finally woke up in my bed at home... I thought the whole thing was a dream, that I must have been asleep the whole time. I reached out for Kate, expecting her to be there, but she wasn't. You already know the rest, I assume."

"Rick - " Maureen began, but Castle cut her off,

"You're _wrong_. I don't _need _Kate. I _can_ live without her. I just don't want to. I chose her because I love her. I did _not create_ her as a coping mechanism! I went through hell and back with her. _I chose _her_," _he repeated_, "_and she chose me and..." he started to choke up. "We were going to be married...and now she's gone... and everyone's acting like she's not real, like she was never here."

Maureen passed him a box of tissues.

"I don't need those. I'm not crying," Castle sobbed.

"Rick, this is a safe space," she assured him. "I've seen you cry before, if that helps."

"Oh, that makes me feel a lot better," Rick replied, still sniffling a little.

"You usually only cried when you were talking about Alexis. When you were going through your chemo treatments, the prospect of leaving her would really upset you."

Castle nodded, taking a tissue and wiping his eyes.  
"And...that's why I need to keep seeing you, for my daughter's sake. Being in a world without Kate... it's as bad as losing her. I'm..." he trailed off.

"You're grieving," Maureen supplied.

He nodded. That seemed as reasonable as anything else he'd heard to date.  
"I don't mind going through that alone but... I need somewhere I can vent. I need a way to deal with not having Kate so that I can keep it together for Alexis. That doesn't mean I'm giving up on Kate. But I can't abandon my daughter, either."

"Does this mean you're willing to keep working with me?" she asked.

"I'm not going to deny Kate's existence; that will _never_ happen," Castle clarified. "But if you want to suggest something that might make it easier to cope with not knowing what's happened to her..."

"Rick, if you'd like a suggestion," Maureen said, "how about you start a journal? I'm happy to be here for you, but there may be times when all you really need to do is get all of these complex emotions and confusing thoughts off your chest - get them out of your head and on paper."

* * *

Castle was almost completely worn out on the couch when Martha arrived home. The session had gone on for the rest of the hour as he'd filled her in on a few more details about his memories, they'd discussed coping strategies and kept to lighter topics. All in all this session had been greatly improved over the last therapist. Maureen may not believe him any more than anyone else did, but at least she listened.

"Richard, Darling, how did your session go?" Martha asked, not even trying to disguise her concern for his well-being.

Castle grunted in response. As productive as the session might have been, it had still been quite draining. Then again, most things were of late.

She wrinkled her nose as she carefully lowered herself into the seat next to him.  
"What's that smell?" She gasped. "Richard, don't tell me you rode the subway."

"Ok, I won't," he said, rolling over.

"Kiddo, why didn't you take a cab?"

"I wanted to actually be on time. "

"You're supposed to be going to therapy, not gallivanting around the city all willy-nilly. "

"I wasn't... _gallivanting_. "

"Richard, I am merely looking out for you."

"Mother, I'm too tired to argue." Castle sighed. He knew she was genuinely concerned for him; he just didn't want to talk any more. He'd done enough of that with Maureen.

"Well, don't nap for too long, dear one; Alexis will be over for dinner in a few hours. And, er, you should probably shower before she gets here."

* * *

About an hour later, as he sat on his bed, Castle knew he still had enough time to get ready before Alexis was to arrive. Sighing, he grabbed his laptop, opened a new word document and began to type. He needed to be okay for Alexis' sake. If that meant starting a journal, so be it. He was no stranger to writing his feelings. He had two decades worth of best sellers to show for that.


	6. Friendship on Fire

**A/N: 100 followers! Thank you, thank you thank you!**

**My beta, Shutterbug5269, helped refine this chapter. The story is 100% mine but I have to give him credit for some of the words and even the style to an extent.**

* * *

That evening, the door opened and Alexis walked into the room, draping her arms around her father's neck from behind and kissing his forehead. Castle rose to embrace her and she sat down next to him, squeezing his hand. At that moment, she got a call but she didn't take it.

"Sorry, Dad, I'll put it on silent," Alexis whispered.

"Max again?" he asked.

She nodded.

"I know this is none of my business, really," Castle began, "but if you're in a relationship with the guy, wouldn't that occasionally require you to talk to him?"

"We _do_ talk," she said, "we talk all the time. He's always asking me how I am, telling me he loves me, asking if there's anything I need. "

"That _Jerk_," Castle whispered with a mischievous wink.

Alexis almost laughed.  
"I must sound horrible to you."

"No," Castle replied, "it just sounds like you're going along with a relationship you don't seem to want."

Alexis sighed.  
"I used to, I really did. But ever since Paris, things have been different between us."

Castle's stomach lurched and he was once again reminded that he was at a severe disadvantage, not knowing every element that conflicted with his memories. For all he knew, she could very well be referring to the kidnapping - but it was just as possible that she was talking about something else. Playing it safe, he simply nodded.

"He was wonderful, Dad, he really was. I broke up with Ashley because he wasn't there for me when I needed him. Max was everything Ashley wasn't; he was there for me but that was the problem: I didn't need him. I had my friends, Gram, my counsellor and you to talk to. What I wanted from him was to be how he was before the kidnapping."

So the kidnapping had happened here, too. That asked more questions than it answered, but he continued to listen.

"I didn't want to be treated differently. Things just... haven 't been the same between us since then but...he ticks all the boxes, Dad, and I can't help wondering if it would be a mistake to break up with him. "

"Alexis, you deserve to be with someone who's there for you," Castle said, "but you also deserve to be with someone you _want_ to be with. Max sounds like a really nice guy. He deserves to be with someone who returns his ardour."

"_Sounds like_? Dad, you _love_ Max," Alexis replied incredulously.

"Uh - yes, I do, I do," Castle stammered. "Sorry, I misspoke. My point is... Alexis, true romantic love is friendship on fire. Friendship without fire is just friendship - which is nice, but Alexis, I want you to be able to experience _true love, _cheesy as it sounds. I don't want you to close yourself off to that for something that's safe. It's not always about who ticks all the boxes. It's about someone who's going to be a partner, an equal. Can you honestly say that's Max? "

Alexis looked up.  
"No."

"Pumpkin, it's your call," Castle whispered into her hair as he hugged her tightly, "I just want you to be happy. "

"I know, Dad. Thank you. "

* * *

The night had been wonderful. He'd laughed, talked and eaten with his family. He'd almost been able to pretend that everything was normal. Now it was the next morning, and once again he was alone in his bed. Once again, he had been forced to spend another night without Beckett.

Castle sat up in bed and placed his feet on the floor. The black and white lion portrait caught his eye. He didn't know why, but its presence bothered him.

"_You_ shouldn't be here," he whispered.

Linus, of course, said nothing.

Castle stared at the motionless photo. Some corner of his mind knew how crazy this was. The real lion the photo depicted had most likely perished years ago. Yet, for some reason, he was suddenly filled with an irrational antipathy towards the lifeless image.

"What are you staring at?" he hissed, standing up, his voice growing louder and more angry with every word he spoke. "Answer me, you coward!" He stepped closer to Linus. "You think you're so clever, don't you?"

He narrowed his eyebrows, his antipathy boiling over into an all-consuming rage. "This is _your_ doing, isn't it? Yeah, I see it now. You didn't like being replaced by the sea-shells and retired to my study." He was beyond reason by this point, all of his anger and frustration at his current predicament directed at a portrait he had loved but was now a reminder of what was missing.

Linus took the accusation passively, neither confirming nor denying.

"You wanted to be top cat again, so you created a universe in which you were still hanging in my bedroom, didn't you? Well, I don't like it! You hear me? I don't like it! Change it back!"

Days of anger and confusion spurred inside him as he lashed out, landing a single punch right between the lion's eyes with every ounce of strength he had behind it, sending it crashing to the floor with a loud bang, cracking the frame. Castle stared at the web of blood-tinted shattered glass obscuring Linus' head and then down at his own bleeding knuckles, the realization of what he'd done setting in.  
"Oops. "

* * *

Martha had not chastised him when he'd called her into his bedroom, nor the whole way over to the hospital or while they were waiting for the doctor. Now, with his hand safely bandaged as they walked out of the emergency room, he knew she was ready to finally lay into him.

"This is getting out of hand," she said.

"Was that pun intended?" he replied, trying to deflect the uncomfortable discussion with humour.

"Richard," she scolded, "you're lucky you didn't need stitches. You could have done some serious damage to yourself. "

"It was an accident," he claimed.

"An _accident_? The glass _accidentally_ fell onto your fist? "

"Yep," he confirmed dryly.

"Don't, Richard, don't make jokes about this. I'm not in the mood," Martha warned.

"Look...Mother... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, it just... sort of happened. "

"I don't understand," Martha replied softly, "I thought you were quite fond of that picture."

"I was - I am. It was just that... he was _mocking_ me. "

"_Mocking _you? Kiddo, you know I would never discourage your wonderful imagination unless I felt your safety or health was at risk, but does this have anything to do with..._Kate_? "

He sighed.  
"Maybe I'm a _little_ frustrated about the whole situation. "

"And that's normal," Martha said in a soothing tone, "but the next time you're feeling frustrated, call your therapist or me; don't get into fist-fights with the artwork. Okay? "

He looked at his worried mother and kissed her forehead.  
"Okay, mother, I promise. "

* * *

That afternoon he received a new package from _Black Pawn_. It appeared to be an advanced copy of his new book - at least, he assumed it was his book. His name was on it.  
It was titled _Sudden Risk_ and featured a picture of New York on the cover.

As he hadn't gotten to reading _Homage to a Murder_, he didn't feel like reading this one just yet.  
Castle sat down at his desk and he put the book away in his drawer, rubbing his eyes. According to his mother, his recovery was almost complete and his transplant team was very happy with his progress. It didn't feel that easy to him. He missed the boundless energy he'd taken for granted. He missed the thickness of his hair. Hell, he even missed his old physique. Ok, so he hadn't been a body-builder, but Beckett had loved being enveloped in his large frame, had commented many times how much she enjoyed having something to hold onto in the throes of ecstasy.

His own body felt foreign to him, like it belonged to someone else. He looked down at his bandaged hand. This was what happened when he let his frustration overtake reason. There was an explanation for all of this, he knew, he just hadn't found it yet, but was it worth what he was doing to himself to find the answer? Undoubtedly, Beckett was worth it, but what if he never figured it out? What if he was stuck here?

Perhaps he should just learn to accept this version of reality for now, even though it still felt _wrong_ to him; if for nothing else, for the sake of his family, not to mention his sanity.

He was lifted from his reverie when his phone rang.

"Castle," he answered.

"_Good afternoon, Mr. Castle_," a familiar voice responded.

Castle sat up. Was it really who he thought it was on the other end, or was his mind once again playing tricks on him?

"_This is Lieutenant Javier Esposito from the forty-third Precinct, NYPD. I've been told you tried to contact me_."


	7. Breadcrumbs

**I don't know what to say. Since my last update, this story has gotten forty new followers and I've received the nicest compliments on my tumblr. I only have about twenty followers on there so that's pretty cool. Thanks again to my wonderful beta Shutterbug5269. **

**I've heard from a couple of you that are really enjoying "Ten Weeks of the Ripper" and didn't expect to considering the subject matter, so anyone who dismissed it for that reason is doing themselves a disservice; it's a great read.**

**Thanks also to the reviewer who brought to my attention that I was using an Ann Landers quote in the previous chapter; I thought it was just a saying. I may post the full quote later in the story; it's beautiful and really sums up Castle and Beckett, to me.**

* * *

"_Mr. Castle, are you still there_?"

Castle managed to get some sound out.  
"This is Javier Esposito?"

"_Yes_."

"Javier Allison Esposito?" he pressed.

There was a pause and the other man's voice got much quieter.  
"_Um, where did you get that information_?"

Castle improvised.  
"Let's say I did my research."

"_Obviously not enough research to know that I no longer work at the twelfth precinct and I was never in homicide when I did work there_," Javier countered.

"So you did work there?" Castle asked.

"_I did, years ago in ESU_," Javier confirmed. "_What's all this about_?"

"I - I wanted to ask if I could shadow you for research purposes," Castle lied.

_"Well, flattered as I am, I don't have the time, and I believe the other guy you asked for, Kevin Ryan, was it? He works for the FBI now_."

"You don't know him?" Castle asked.

"_Not personally_," Javier replied. "_We worked in different divisions at the twelfth around the same time, apparently. But in this profession, everyone knows someone who knows someone else_."

"_Which is how you found out about me trying to find you_?" Castle asked.

"_It's not every day that a best-selling author calls,_" Javier pointed out. "_Word gets around. Mr. Castle, your investigation into the 2011 New York Nuclear Bombing is not exactly a secret. And the twelfth precinct investigated the plot that resulted in that bombing in partnership with Homeland security_. "

Castle was so happy to be talking to his friend that it took him a moment for this information to sink in.  
"The dirty bomb."

"_Listen, bro, I understand what it's like to want to look for someone to blame when something messed up happens to you. But you do a disservice to the other victims by bringing your conspiracy theories into this. I know it's hard to accept, believe me, but sometimes the bad guys really are religious extremists with funny accents and brown skin. Is there anything else_?"

He wanted to ask more questions about this bombing, but sensed that it probably wouldn't be in his own best interest to do so.

"Do you - would you happen to know of a Detective Kate Beckett?"

"_Name doesn't ring a bell, sorry_."

Castle nodded. Of course it wasn't going to be that easy.

"_Is that all, Mr. Castle_?"

"Uh, just about, except for... How are you?"

"_Excuse me_?"

"Are you... Are you happy? Are you good?"

"_I have no complaints_."

"You're a lieutenant."

"_Yes_."

"Well, it 's great to hear your voice."

"_Mr. Castle , you are aware you're being recorded_?"

Castle chuckled uneasily.  
" I'd better let you go, Detective - er, I mean, Lieutenant."

"_There's just one more thing, Mr. Castle_."

"Yes?"

Javier's voice lowered again.  
_"You can keep that Allison thing between us, right? I mean, it was my Aunt's name, she passed away before I was born and my Mom was told she couldn't have any more kids after me_ - "

"Your secret's safe with me, Lieutenant. Though, as you said, this call is bring recorded so you might have to ask one of your co-workers for their discretion as well."

Castle hung up before Javier Esposito had a chance to reply but he could picture perfectly the expression he was probably wearing. Filled with a renewed energy, he went to his bedroom. The cleaning lady had already swept up the shattered glass. Linus - what was left of him anyway- was in the closet in his office, not far from where he remembered hanging him in that other life.

He took out his laptop, secretly amused that he had something interesting to record in today's journal entry. First, he decided to open up his storyboard. In doing so, he discovered that he had, indeed, been investigating the nuclear bombing of New York. The file contained links to a plethora of information he had obviously discovered about it. It wasn't all the key information that would help solve the case, he knew, having already solved it, but it was a great start. In this reality, the dirty bomb he and Beckett had prevented from going off back in 2011 had evidently not been found in time and had gone off. It had killed hundreds of thousands of people instantly and the radiation expelled had caused a huge increase in cancer diagnoses - the number of reported cases had grown exponentially every day since.

Obviously, his other self had been suspicious that something more had been going on than the public had been made aware of. Castle smiled in spite of himself. That clever, handsome bastard had done most of his work for him.

* * *

"Richard," Martha called out as she walked through the door, "I - oomph."

She was taken by surprise as her son appeared seemingly out of nowhere, embracing her and looking down at her with glee.

"Richard, what's gotten into you?" Martha asked.

"I found it," he replied.

"Found what, dear?" Martha asked, confused.

"The missing ingredient," he said, leading her into his office. "The crucial piece of the puzzle - I found it. Mother, I get it now."

"Get what, Richard?" she asked.

"Look." He gestured towards his projection screen, which was now displaying a list of possibilities he had compiled.

"Kiddo, what_ is_ this?" she asked incredulously.

"I know you think I'm crazy mother, and I admit, I had my moments of self-doubt, but deep down I always knew that what was in my heart was real. And now I have proof."

"Oh, really? What is this proof, exactly?" Martha asked, dubious of her son's reasoning.

"Javier Esposito," Castle stated.

"Is that a restaurant?" Martha still had no idea what he was getting at.

_"He _is a person. I knew him in my _other _life, where I'm from."

"Richard, _this_ is your life. This _is _where you're from."

"No, mother, no. I'm sorry. I know this is difficult for you to accept, but I went looking for someone I knew from the world I remembered and I found one of them."

"You found this Javier fellow?" Martha asked.

"Yes," he stated.

"You saw him?" she asked.

"No, I spoke to him."

"Well, Kiddo, I'm sure he's not the only Javier Esposito in the world. That doesn't mean - "

"I recognised his voice," Castle said confidently.

"On the phone?" Martha asked dubiously.

"I found him through the police precinct he worked for in my world."

"Stop calling it that, Richard."

"Mother, will you at least hear me out?"

She sighed and sat down, pouring herself a drink.  
"Go ahead," she sighed, waving her empty hand with a flourish.

"Great." He rubbed his hands together. "I looked for Kate and when I didn't find her I thought she must not exist here. I guess I've been off my game since I got here. But finding Javier changed my perspective. Mother , you remember reading Hansel and Gretel to me?"

"I remember performing it to you with the help of your dolls, yes."

"They were action figures," he corrected. "Hansel left a trail of pebbles, which he and Gretel used to get back home, but the doors were locked that night so they couldn't get more. The next morning when their father left them in the woods, he - Hansel, that is - left a trail of breadcrumbs."

"I'm afraid I don't get this analogy," Martha admitted.

"I've been looking for pebbles when I should have been looking for breadcrumbs. I've been looking for _my_ Kate but my Kate is from _my_ world. This world's Kate may not be a police officer; she may not even live in New York."

"Perhaps your hysteria is rubbing off on me but that actually made sense."

"I know for certain now that I didn't make up my memories. So, either both worlds are real, or this - all of this - is the illusion. Which would render finding Kate completely redundant. But this could be an alternate reality or dimension. I could have travelled thorough a wormhole or a portal," he said, pointing to the virtual board. "Or perhaps an evil witch cast a spell on me. Alternatively, this is some kind of hallucination, dream or delusion caused by the accident. I might be in a coma or maybe I'm being brainwashed by the government or extraterrestrial life-forms. The last option is that... well that I died. But obviously I'm hoping it's not that one."

Martha simply stared at her son, seeing the enthusiasm radiating through him now that he had something to focus on.  
"Richard... I haven't seen you like this in a long time. If this little project is what you need to be you again... I'll support you. I may not believe your story, but perhaps that's what you need right now."

He squeezed her hand.  
"Thank you, Mother. I understand. Hopefully, you will too."


	8. Trail

For the first time since he had arrived here five days ago, Castle woke up feeling well-rested, refreshed and ready to start the day, rather than utterly miserable about Beckett not being next to him. He had been up well into the night organising his thoughts in his daily journal. Now that he had showered, dressed and eaten breakfast, he had a plan.

He spent the entire day trying to find Kate Beckett on the internet. There were, as it turned out, a lot of Kate Becketts in the world. He tried the social networking sites, but all the women using that name on those sites were either definitely not her or had private profiles with no photo of themselves. He tried a wider search of the entire net. He was up to page seventeen in the search engine results when he rubbed his eyes, sighing.

He needed something more to go on, but he had no idea what to search for. Yes, he was good at this, at reading, at research, but though his energy was getting better every day it still wasn't at the level he was used to. He had not forgotten what Javier had told him. Kevin Ryan existed here, too. His friend, Castle Junior, was working for the FBI.

It was a long-shot that he would know Beckett when Javier hadn't, when there seemed to be no trace of her, but it was worth a try - if nothing else, Castle might have the chance to speak to Ryan, to find out how his life was going.

He had no luck trying Ryan's old cell, which figured - he was pretty sure it had been NYPD issued. So Castle tried his home number. The odds of him living there, from what Castle has seen, were probably not high, but he hoped he did.

"_Uh, hello_," a familiar woman's voice answered. "_We're happy with our current provider_."

"Is this Jenny Ryan?" he asked.

"_Yes_," she replied cautiously.

"Jennifer Scout Duffy O'Mally Ryan?" he asked.

"_Yes_," she said slowly. "_Though I got rid of the Duffy O'Malley part when I got married._"

Castle paused. He couldn't believe it. Even in an alternate reality, Kevin and Jenny had somehow still found each other. It gave him hope that he would be able to find Beckett.  
"I'm not a telemarketer," he assured her.

He heard an audible sigh of relief.  
"_Sorry, it's just most people don't call the landline anymore_."

"Could I speak to your husband?" he enquired.

"_Kevin?"_ she asked.

"Yes, can I speak to Kevin?" he asked again.

"_He's at work. Can I take a message_?" Jenny offered.

"Uh, it's ok," Castle stammered, "I'll call him back. Thanks for your time."

He hung up.

Castle felt bad about his rudeness but he didn't want to involve Jenny in this - whatever _this _was.

Next, he called the city morgue and asked for Lanie Parish. When he was put on hold to be transferred, he couldn't believe it. Yet another person he knew, walking around in this world this whole time, and here he had been, prepared to give up.

"_Lanie Parish_," the medical examiner answered. "_How may I help you_?"

"Dr. Lanie Parish?" he asked.

"_This is she_," Dr, Parish replied.

"Dr. Delaney Parish?" he clarified, just to be sure.

"_Where in the hell did you hear that name - uh, I mean, who is this_?" she asked, a familiar ring to her irritation, making him smile to himself.

"This is Richard Castle," he stated.

There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line. Castle had rarely known Lanie to be at a loss for words.

"_Richard Castle, the author_?" she finally asked.

"Yes," he replied, "I...uh... I'm doing some research for a novel and I was wondering..."

"Oh, you wanted my expertise?" Lanie giggled, her tone suddenly switching. "Well, I must say, I am honoured. You know, you have a real gift with the details of death."

Castle smiled in reminiscence.  
"So I've been told," he replied. "Uh, you wouldn't happen to know a Detective Kate Beckett, would you?"

"Um... well, I work with a lot of Detectives, Mr. Castle. If this is about a _specific_ case - "

"She may not be a detective," he offered, cringing as he did so.

"I don't know _anyone_ by that name," she said, sounding as if she was losing her patience. "Is this really research?"

"Uh - gotta go, my agent's calling me," he said hastily.

"Now wait just one damned minute -" Lanie began angrily, but he'd hung up before she had the chance to rip into him.

He was ready to tear his hair out. Javi, Kevin, Dr. Parish; they were all here – but there was still no trace of Beckett. If only he had some inkling of what kind of job she had -

He froze.

_Job!_

How could he be so stupid? Of course, it was obvious. Oh, why hadn't he thought of this from the beginning? Why hadn't he tried the one person who would definitely be able to tell him whether or not Beckett was real?

Hands shaking, he dialled the number.

_"Hello, this is Jim Beckett. I'm not available at the moment. Please leave your name and number and I'll be sure to get back to you, ASAP."_

Castle immediately hung up and dropped the phone onto his desk without leaving a message.

_Fuck, _he thought, pacing up and down his office. _Fuckin'... fuck! _

Jim was real. Jim was here, in this reality, and he hadn't thought of what he'd actually say to the man in that event.

_Hey, this is Richard Castle, I was just wondering if you happened to have a daughter named Kate, because I'm engaged to her in a parallel universe so it would really be doing me a solid if you could give me her number._

He gave a dry laugh.

_Fuck. What the fuck do I do now?_

He stared at the phone. Why not do what had initially occurred to him before he'd remembered he knew Jim's cell? He tried the law firm he remembered Jim working for, once again knowing it was a long shot.

As it turned out, Jim had worked for the firm in this world, too, but had recently retired to his cabin. The receptionist hung up before he could ask for more information but it was enough.

Hoping it was the same cabin Jim owned in the other universe, he grabbed the keys to his Ferrari and headed downstairs, only to be unceremoniously stopped dead in his tracks by Eduardo on Martha's orders. Apparently she was determined to stop him from leaving the building for anything other than appointments until he had the ok from his transplant team - especially for what she considered to be his current "_flight of fancy."_

Cursing - and then apologising to Mrs. Weatherly, who had been leaving the building at the same time - he headed back up stairs in a huff, refusing to take the elevator, which Eduardo had held for him. He was a grown man and his mother was trying to keep him wrapped up in cotton wool.

The woman would not be reasoned with. They argued well into the night at the end of which he finally agreed to ask his transplant team if it was alright to take his "little expedition", as she called it. She pointed out he had an upcoming appointment and could discuss it then.

A few days later, he had managed to get the _all-clear_ from his transplant team. He still needed to take it easy, and it may still take a while for his libido to return to normal - apparently his other self had been extremely concerned about that - but, he could come and go as he pleased and could go back to coffee and junk food (in moderation).

The most important part - the only part Castle really cared about - had been that he was allowed to drive, and he'd taken great satisfaction in watching the smug expression fall from his mother's face as she reluctantly agreed (she had insisted on accompanying him to make sure he was actually going to his appointment).  
Damn right, she agreed_._ Sometimes she seemed to forget who was taking care of whom in this relationship.

* * *

He prepared for his trip that very day.

Castle had never been to Jim's cabin himself, but he knew the address.

This was the first time he had driven since - well, since his wedding day. He didn't want to dwell on that too much, so he quickly buckled his seat-belt, ignoring the deep-seated anxiety in the pit of his stomach.

He was able to put himself at ease and eventually found it quite cathartic out on the open road, the fresh air in his face.

He arrived at the address and recognised Jim's car, the utility truck he used to drive up here on weekends. This was it.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of the car, walked up the path and knocked on the door.

When he saw the person who answered it, he nearly fell over from shock. It most definitely was not Jim, but it _was_ someone he recognised. He'd seen her face plenty of times before, to be sure, though only in photographs and home-movies.

Speechless, Castle stared into the equally stunned eyes of Johanna Beckett.

* * *

**Thanks as always to Mark (Shutterbug5269) for the beta reading. I apologise; last chapter I said his fic was "Ten Days of the Ripper" it's actually "Ten Weeks of the Ripper". Doi! It's not like I've been editing the thing for over a month or anything. Well, I've fixed that now, any way.**

**The site still seems to have alert issues, so I suggest following Castle Ficathon on twitter for alerts for all ficathon entries, including this one. Alternatively, you can follow me on twitter or tumblr for immediate updates(links in my profile).**


	9. Conversations with Dead People

**Special shout out to CassieBones - Lanie's name being Delaney came from her story, _Arranged_, and I never asked her permission, but I am crediting her now. So please don't put me in fanfic writers' jail. **

* * *

Johanna was the first to speak.  
"Are you Richard Castle?"

Castle couldn't believe it. Johanna Beckett was speaking to him. Johanna Beckett knew his name. Her figure was a little fuller, her hair a little lighter and longer; and there were laugh lines at the corners of her mouth, but this was, without a doubt, Johanna Beckett - Kate's mother. Kate's mother had asked him a question.

What had that been? _Oh, right! _Was he Richard Castle?

"Yes," he said, throat dry. "And you're Johanna Beckett?"

Johanna stepped out of the doorway.  
"Yes," she said slowly. "Not to sound rude but what brings a best-selling author to my doorstep?

"That... is a good - good question - excellent, in fact," Castle stammered. "I... am doing research. Yes! Research for my next book, is - is what I am doing.  
"I'm looking into an old case: the murder of an undercover FBI agent." If he was going to lie, he might as well try to get information about the case that, as far as Castle was concerned, had resulted in the death of the woman standing in front of him, because clearly she was very much alive - though Castle believed in ghosts, it didn't seem likely that she was one. "I believe Joe Pulgatti asked you to look into his case."

"Pulgatti... Joe Pulgatti, the mobster?"

"Um, yes. He was convicted of the murder of Bob Armand."

Johanna shook her head.  
" No, I have never met Joe Pulgatti and I never had any involvement with that case. "

"Oh," Castle said, inwardly digesting the information and what it meant. Obviously, Johanna not being involved in Armand's murder case had meant Bracken would've had no reason to have her killed. _Why _wasn't she involved, though? He couldn't ask her, obviously. He'd already made enough of an ass of himself in front of Beckett's mother - _Beckett's mother_!

Impressing his future mother in law had not been something Castle had ever contemplated having to worry about, her being dead and all, but _this_ Johanna Beckett was very much alive, and looking at him with a combination of bemusement and pity that made him want to slink off and leave with what little shred of dignity he had left.

He desperately wanted to ask about Beckett, but he couldn't think of an organic way to introduce the topic. Knowing Johanna was alive may help him get closer to finding Beckett, though. It was invaluable information that completely changed the colour of his search.

"Well... I'm sorry. I must have the details confused. Don't mind me. I'll get out of your hair. Thank you for your help." He turned to leave.

"Wait," Johanna said, gently grabbing his arm.

He stared down at her hand. Her touch was gentle, warm, reassuring.

Still, up until about two minutes ago, he had considered the woman dead, so it was still quite creepy and unnerving.

He slowly withdrew from her grasp.

"Did you drive here all the way from the city?" she enquired.

He shrugged.  
"I'm very into my research," he replied weakly.

"Well, would you like some tea or coffee for the road?" she offered

He smiled.  
"Coffee sounds good."

As she let him in, his eyes scoured the cabin, looking for some evidence of Beckett, a photograph, macaroni art, anything, to no avail.

"Please, take a seat," she said.

He complied.

"As you see, I have quite a collection of your work," she said, indicating the bookshelf.

She wasn't kidding. His name took up a fair amount of shelf space.

"I've only just started reading your books, to be honest. My daughter has always been a huge fan of yours and now that I've retired and I have all this time on my hands, I decided to find out what the fuss was all about."

Castle struggled to maintain control of his breathing. She had a daughter. She had a daughter who was a fan of his work.

Keeping his voice as even as he could, he asked, "Oh? Well, your daughter sounds like she has excellent taste. What's her name?"

"Kate," Johanna said, smiling at the thought of her daughter.

Castle wanted to jump up, hug Johanna, or give her a high-five, anything to express his sheer elation at her words - but he mustn't get over-excited. He was a firm believer in the butterfly effect. _That_ Kate may not be _his _Kate. If Alexis had been a boy, her name would have been Cosmo, but she had been born a girl, so he'd called her Alexis instead.

He had been working on getting Beckett to let him name their future son Cosmo, but obviously that son would be a completely different child to what boy-Alexis would be like. Having the same name didn't necessarily mean she was the same person.

* * *

"Here you go," Johanna said, handing him the coffee she had made him and setting a cup of tea down on the coffee table as she sat across from him.

"You're a tea-drinker," he noted.

She smiled and nodded.  
"Yes, in a family of coffee drinkers."

"Your husband and children?" he asked carefully.

"Husband and child," she corrected. "It's just Katie - though she's not really a child any more."

He gripped the mug a little tighter.  
"Where is your husband, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Out fishing," she replied, "but I don't think you came here to talk to me about my husband. And I don't believe you came here to talk about Joe Pulgatti, either."

"What makes you say that?" he asked nervously.

She sighed and looked at him with kind eyes.  
"Mr. Castle, I can't imagine how hard it must be to have your private life documented in the media. I hear you're doing well, though."

He nodded.

"If I were in your position, I would probably be doing the same thing," she continued.

"In my position?"

"I know it's easy to dismiss the claims you've made about the 2011 bombing," Johanna said, "but you're right, there are things about it that don't add up. I know I have a reputation for advocating for people who have been treated unfairly, and I'm sure there's no small amount of evidence that the case against the Alhabi family was racially and religiously motivated. But I'm retired, Mr. Castle. I can refer you to someone else, if you`d like - "

'No, no it's ok," he sighed. "Mrs. Beckett I... I am investigating that bombing, I won't lie, but please believe me when I say, I haven't come here to drag you into it. Thank you for the coffee but... I need to be getting back home."

He stood up.

"I'm sorry if I offended you -" she began.

He shook his head.  
"No. No, you haven't offended me. You've been wonderful. Truly, truly wonderful," he said sincerely, looking directly at her. She was very much her daughter's mother, and he'd love nothing more right now than to stay and talk to her. But he wasn't her future son-in-law. Not here.

"I appreciate your time," he said, with much regret.

"Wait, Mr. Castle."

She grabbed a copy of _In a Hail of Bullets_ from the shelf.  
"Will you sign this, for my daughter?"

He nodded numbly, taking the book, opening the front cover and grabbing a pen from his pocket.

"I know I probably shouldn't ask," she said apologetically.

"No, it is ok," he cut her off. "I have a daughter of my own. I'd do anything for her."

She smiled in agreement.  
"Yeah, that's how it goes. How old is yours?"

"Twenty." He paused carefully. "How about yours; how old is she?"

"Thirty-five." She shook her head. "They sure grow up fast, don't they?"

Thirty-five years old - Beckett's exact age. _Don't get ahead of yourself, Rick, _he chided himself.

"They do. But the most important thing is that they're happy and healthy." He played it as light as he could, but really, that was what it came down to. He needed to at least know she was ok, that she was happy.

She smiled.  
"Yeah. Yeah it is. Katie - well, she's on track to becoming a big-time corporate lawyer, and she's engaged to a lovely doctor, so, I'm not worried about that."

He tried to tell himself it didn't matter, but it still hurt hearing the words. _Engaged._ Kate Beckett was engaged - to... someone who was not him.

Snapping out of it, he focused on signing the book so he could get out of there. What... what could he write? This may be his only chance to say something to her. What should it be?

It had to mean something, but it had to be generic enough to not arouse suspicion. Finally, he realised the perfect thing to write.

_Kate,_

_Yours Always,_

_Richard Castle_

* * *

_Kate Beckett corporate attorney,_ he typed.

He was able to find her name on the list of several press statements and online court documents. No picture, but the name of a law firm.

* * *

That night, Kate Beckett was surprised by an impromptu visit, from her mother.

"Mom, what are you doing here?"

"Is that all I get?" her mother asked, feigning offence. "Aren't you happy to see me?"

"Of course I am," Kate said, closing the door behind her. "Why didn't you call?"

"I was too excited," Johanna said.

"Does Dad know you're here?" Kate asked.

"Oh yes, he's fine with it," Johanna replied. "He would have come but he was quite tired. He sends his love. Speaking of significant others, where's Josh?"

"He's on shift," Kate replied.

"Well, I have something for you, Katie," Johanna said.

"Ok."

Her mother pulled out the book.

"It's... Oh, Mom, I already have a copy."

"Not like this one, you don't," Johanna said, opening the front cover to reveal the autograph.

Kate's eyes widened.  
"Wow. Mom... How - Where...?"

Johanna chuckled.  
"You won't believe it but Richard Castle came to see me today."

Kate opened her mouth, closed it and opened her mouth again.  
"You're right, I don't believe you."

She led her mother down to the couch.  
"What happened?"

"Well, I was sitting around doing nothing - you know, the usual - when I heard a knock at my door. I opened it up and it was him," Johanna explained.

"Well, maybe it just looked like him and when you asked for his autograph he went along with it," Kate said.

"No, it was him, he even left me his card," Johanna countered, showing Kate the business card he'd left with her in case she happened to remember anything that might be relevant to him.

"Well... what was Richard Castle doing at your cabin, Mom?" Kate asked.

"That's an interesting question," Johanna replied. "He claimed it was to look into an old case of mine for research, but I never worked on the case he talked about."

"Well, maybe he made a mistake," Kate said.

"That's what he said but... come on, Katie, we all know what that man's been up to," Johanna said. "It's not exactly a secret."

"What, you think he was trying to involve you in his investigation into the 20111 dirty bombing?" Kate asked.

"He denied it, but I'm not so sure he was completely honest with me," Johanna said.

"Well, what did you say?" Kate asked.

"I said I was flattered but that I was retired," Johanna assured her.

"So you won't be looking into it, then, right?" Kate asked.

"Right. Well... maybe."

"Mom - "

"I've always found that case fascinating," Johanna said.

"You're retired," her daughter reminded her.

"Which means, I have a lot of time on my hands," Johanna pointed out.

"What do you think Dad would think?" Kate asked

"You leave Dad to me," Johanna said.

"Mom..." she looked down at the book. "This is... this is amazing. Thank you. Just... promise me you'll be careful, ok?"

"I promise."

* * *

Castle felt like a creepy stalker, waiting across the street, watching the building. Waiting for her... but he needed to know. He needed to see.

And he did. He raised his head. Even from a distance, he knew it was her. He knew her gait. Her hair may be a little shorter, a little darker - closer to the colour it had been in the early days he'd known her - but it was definitely Kate - _his _Kate... except not. Not his Kate - someone else's Kate. Someone else she was engaged to - and she was a lawyer. As far as she knew, he was a stranger to her. He sighed, the proof of her living and breathing enough for now.

* * *

He had an appointment with Maureen that day. He told her the truth. Of course, she didn't believe him; she felt he was retroactively inserting new information into his memories, and advised him against continuing to contact the people he'd found, telling him it was not only unhealthy for him, but risky, potentially dangerous behaviour. He pretended to take her advice into consideration. He knew she meant well, and for now, he wasn't going to pursue it, but he knew that she was wrong and he was right.

* * *

Castle was writing in his journal that night when he got a call from a number he didn't recognise.

"Castle," he answered.

"_Hello, it's Johanna Beckett."_

He stopped typing.  
"Hel - hello, Mrs. Beckett. I - may how I you help - I mean -" he stammered.

_"Mr. Castle, I've looked into the case you were talking to me about. Just out of professional curiosity, of course. It's all in the public record. It meant I had to go to the library," she grumbled, "but the point is, you really got your wires cross on the Bob Armand murder. What was your source?"_

"Uh... apparently not a very good one," he replied weakly.

"_No kidding. Joe Pugatti was arrested and charged for the murder, but he was released shortly after."_

Castle raised his head.  
"He was?"

_"Yes. The real killer came forward."_

He was practically at the edge of his seat. Could it be...? Was he alive?  
"Who?"

_"Roy Montgomery. He was a police rookie. Seems he and two other cops, McAllister and Raglan, had been kidnapping mobsters and holding them for ransom - only things went south when they accidentally kidnapped an undercover agent. Montgomery claimed shooting him was an accident and the DA accepted his plea and dismissed the other charges against him. He was fired, and given three years in prison for manslaughter_."

"The DA," Castle echoed. "Who was the DA?"

"At the time, that was Hynes. Charles Hynes."

It was starting to make sense now. No Bracken, no blackmail, no cover up, no need for Joe Pulgatti to ever call on Johanna Beckett. Of course, just because Bracken hadn't been DA didn't mean he didn't exist.

_"That's a pretty good story, isn't it, Mr. Castle?"_

"Huh?"

_"For your book. It would make for some great inspiration, I'd think."_

"Oh... yeah. Thank you."

"_My pleasure," Johanna said. "I also looked into the bombing - I hope I wasn't overstepping my bounds. I found a few discrepancies and I passed them along to a few old friends - they're going to look into it. I'm not going to promise anything, but I think you're right, Mr. Castle. There's a lot more to that case than we were all told."_

"Wow. You did this in one day?"

_"I haven't been retired that long, Mr. Castle. Before that, I like to think I was a pretty damn good lawyer."_

"Not just good; you're amazing. Thank you. How can I possibly show you how grateful I am?"

_"Well... you could come to dinner."_

"Oh. Uh..."

_"My daughter's coming over tomorrow night and I thought I could surprise her. What do you say_?"

Kate. Dinner with Kate - and Kate's mother... Jim, too. He... It was all happening so fast now. He was overwhelmed. But he would be able to see her, speak to her.

"Yes, I would be honoured."

* * *

He'd spent the rest of the night chasing up one of the leads Johanna had given him. Now, the next day, standing at the docks, he wasn't ready. It was too much in one day. Tonight, he would be speaking to Kate. They would be in the same room and... and stuff. He didn't have to do this now. He could wait. Except that he didn't know that for sure. Nothing was certain. He could be back to his old life in the blink of an eye, having wasted this opportunity. He would always regret it if he did that. If he hadn't at least tried to find him, Castle would have kicked himself.

When he reached the bait shop, he stopped, took a deep breath and exhaled. This was it. He opened the door, causing a ringing sound that alerted someone to approach the counter: an older black man with a face Castle knew all too well.

"Morning," he greeted Castle in that deep, familiar voice.

"Morning," Castle said back, meeting his gaze for the first time. Roy Montgomery looked back at him, smiling cheerfully.

"Can I help you with anything?" Roy asked.

"Actually, yes," Castle replied, approaching the counter. "Yes, I think you can. Roy Montgomery?"

"That's me."

"I'm - I'm Richard Castle."

Roy smiled in recognition.

"I _thought _you looked familiar," he said, walking around to shake his hand. "Man, I love Derek storm. Why did you kill him?"

"I was bored," Castle admitted. He'd usually evaded that question when asked, but this was Roy. Of course, Roy didn't know that - well, he did, he knew his own name, obviously, but - not his significance to Castle. He didn't know they'd been good friends for years, or that Castle had looked up to him. Castle was more than a little flustered. This was his second conversation with a "dead" person in the past twenty-four hours and he found he wasn't getting any better at it.

"I lived and breathed that character for so long that for a while, I lost a part of myself - in my writing, that is. I was looking for something new, a challenge. I guess, in a way, I'm still looking. That's sort if why I'm here, actually.

Castle thought over what he was going to say, weighing the pros and cons of digging in the man's past like this. The man in front of him wasn't the Roy Montgomery he knew. He had no way of knowing how this man would react. This case had obviously ruined the man's life as he'd known it, and rebuilding that life to some semblance of success would have been no easy feat.

He pressed on anyway, however. He needed to know. Needed the whole story, even if this world hadn't sorted out the way "his" had.

"I'm working on a new book. It's about... an FBI agent undercover in the Mafia who gets caught up in an underground ransom exchange by a group of rogue cops."

He watched Roy's face carefully.

"I see," Roy replied.

"I'm doing some research on the events that inspired the book and I was hoping to get all sides of the story. I don't want to overstep - "

Roy held up his hand.  
"That's ok. It's been a long time. I think - I think a lot of people have forgotten that story. Not me. I live with it every day. I think it's time people remembered. I think it's time that story got retold - and, Rick Castle, I think you may just be the man for the job."

Castle looked back at Roy nervously.

"Does that mean you'll, um - you're willing to answer a few questions?

"Sure," Roy replied. "Why don't you meet me at the _Rusty Salmon_ at about one-thirty? That's when I have my lunch break."

"_Rusty Salmon_?"

"It's a seafood cafe not far from here. They have good food. I supply their supplier."

"Well, ok," Castle agreed. "Meet you there."

* * *

Castle stood up when Roy entered.

"Glad you found the place ok," Roy said, sitting in the booth Castle had chosen.

Castle sat back down, pulling out a pen and his note pad.

"You gave good directions. Um, so, how would you like to do this?"

Roy shrugged.  
"Just ask any questions you might have and I'll try to answer them best as I can?"

"Why did you turn yourself in?" Castle asked

"Wow, you're going to jump straight to that one, huh? You're not going to ask me how it got started, how I got involved, why I killed Armand?"

"No, I think I worked most of that one out," Castle said. "Raglan and McAllister, they were your mentors. You looked up to them. They convinced you that what you were doing was right. You didn't know Armand was an agent. He went for the gun, there was a struggle. It went off. Have I got that right so far?"

"I guess so, yeah," Roy confirmed.

"What I can't understand is why you came forward when Raglan and McAllister were probably pressuring you to keep it quiet," Castle said. "You had a bright future ahead of you. Hell, you could have become Captain of a precinct if you'd kept it to yourself."

'They _did _pressure me," Roy said. "And you're right, maybe I could have. I'm glad I didn't. I can't imagine having to live with that secret, the hypocrisy of trying to uphold justice while evading it at the same time. The thing is, man, I'd wanted to get out for while. Ever since Hynes started becoming suspicious of us - "

"Hynes?'

"Charles Hynes, the DA," Roy elaborated. "He didn't have enough evidence to go after us, but he was watching, I knew, waiting for us to slip up. I told them - I told them we should stop, but they still believed in what we were doing. When I shot Armand - it was too much, man."

Castle could see that Montgomery was visibly upset. He had never known how the man had kept his secret for so long before the night he'd died in that hangar.

"I'd taken a man's life - an innocent man's life. I did what they told me. I kept it to myself, at first. I was a cop; none of the interrogation tactics from other cops worked on me. But Hynes, man. He didn't give up. He took me into a room, and five minutes later, he had me crying like a baby, ready to confess. He gave me a fair deal.  
"My testimony was their whole case. I was lucky. I've always carried my crime around with me, and I always will. But I was given a second chance. My wife was waiting for me on the other side, and now we have three beautiful children and I have the bait shop. It's a lot more than I deserve, and I count my blessings every day."

"Your wife stayed with you?"

"Yes. My wife, Evelyn," he said smiling. "She's an amazing woman. She forgave me for what I did. She stood by me at the trial and waited for me the whole time I was in prison, stayed with me through all of it. "

"Not a lot of women would do that for their husbands," Castle pointed out.

"They would if they loved their husband as much as she and I love each other," Roy said.  
"Love - real love - is resilient, loyal, and unselfish. Love waits - even when things are at their hardest, their most impossible."

Castle smiled.  
"Yeah," he said softly. He cleared his throat, snapping out of his reverie. "So, Raglan and McAllister ...?"

"John Raglan pleaded guilty and hanged himself in prison. Very sad," he said solemnly. "McAllister went on the run for years and finally turned himself in five years ago. Apparently he was tired of running. He never answered any of my letters."

Roy paused for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face, as if he still felt some lingering guilt for his former mentors' anguish in spite of himself.

"I think he still believes I betrayed him, that I betrayed the badge. The fact is that we all betrayed the badge when we started taking the law into our own hands." He checked his watch. "My break will be over soon. If you have any more questions, um... can I use this?" he asked, gesturing to Castle's pen and paper. Castle nodded and handed it to him.

Roy wrote down his details.  
"Call me, and I'll be happy - well, not happy, but willing - to go into more detail."

Castle nodded as Roy got up.  
"It was... it was good talking to you," Castle said.

"Thank you for finding me, Mr. Castle," Roy Montgomery said with the smile he remembered so well, "thank you for letting me tell my side of the story."

* * *

Overwhelmed though he might have been by seeing Roy, Castle had other things to worry about. Like dinner. Like what to wear. Should he bring wine? Or flowers? Beckett always loved him in blue. But Jim had complimented him on his red shirt that one time. Should he wear a tie? Damn it, he was an engaged man; he shouldn't have to worry about this stuff anymore.

He'd decided on a powder-blue shirt and a suit jacket, no tie. That way he wouldn't be overdressed if it was a casual dinner but he wouldn't be under-dressed if it was formal, either. He'd also decided not to bring anything. He felt it would be too presumptuous. As far as they knew he was simply an author doing research, not a man madly in love with their daughter. It was best to play it cool and aloof - which he could totally do. His palms were totally not sweating because of nerves; it was just a warm night.

When he arrived at the cabin, he saw a car he didn't recognise. Kate's car? Stepping out of his, he took a deep breath and walked up the path to knock on the door.

"Oh, that'll be our special guest now," Johanna's voice rang from inside. "Katie, can you get that?"

Katie?! _No, Katie, don't get that, I'm not ready. Oh, God, what do I say? What do I do?! Fuck._

The door opened, and there in front of him stood Kate Beckett, Hazel-eyed Kate Beckett, with the mole on her cheek and her full, kissable lips. Unmistakably Kate, with her hair up wearing a midnight blue dress, staring back at him, and now that he could see her close-up, suddenly he understood.

* * *

**The title of this chapter comes from an episode of ****_Buffy the Vampire Slayer_**** of the same name. If you haven't seen ****_Buffy_****, and you'd like to watch Nathan Fillion playing an evil priest, I highly recommend it. **


	10. Dinner with the Becketts

It was Kate. He had never met this woman before, but she was Kate Beckett, not a dream or a hallucination. He loved his mother and daughter and he knew every detail of both of them off by heart, but Kate...

He could spend the rest of his life studying her, learning her every inch - had planned to do that very thing, in fact - but he would never get her right. He could never do her justice. A dream or hallucination could never live up to the full reality of Kate Beckett. Nikki was evidence of that.

This may be a version of Kate with different memories that lived in a different world, but she was Kate. He could see it not only in how she looked but how she smelled, how she moved, how she was staring at him now with a gaze uniquely Kate Beckett. She was real, and that meant this world was real. The world he remembered was real, too. They were both real, and somehow he had woken up in the wrong one.

"Um, hello," Kate Beckett said.

He should respond. Words would be a good thing to use right now. He was having trouble finding any, what with his heart soaring over the fact that he'd actually found her. She'd been out there this whole time and he had to suppress the urge to take her into his arms right there and then and kiss her like he never had before - which technically, he hadn't.

"Richard Castle."

It was not Castle that said it, but Kate.

"_Mom..."_ Kate hissed over her shoulder, "_what's going on?"_

"_Don't be rude,"_ he heard Johanna reply in a stage whisper. "_Introduce yourself."_

Kate appeared to shoot a warning look to her mother and turned back to him. She stared at him for a second longer before holding out her hand.

"Um, hello. I'm Kate. Kate Beckett."

He looked down at her outstretched hand and started to move his own to meet hers, when he remembered it was bandaged.

"Your hand," she observed.

"Uh, yeah, long story," he said, switching hands. Explaining his injury to Maureen had been enough of a headache. He wasn't about to tell Kate. How many people got a second chance to make a first impression to the love of their life? What sort of impression would, "I punched a glass-framed portrait of a lion," make?

Her touch felt both familiar and foreign.

"Katie, don't let the man freeze to death," came Johanna's voice. "Let him in."

She slowly withdrew her hand from his, which he reluctantly relinquished.

"Won't you come in?" she said in a slightly forced tone, stepping aside to allow him entry.

"Thank you," Castle said, entering as she shut the door behind him. Castle was only given a few seconds to process the scene inside.

Johanna was in the kitchen area cooking dinner. Jim was helping her. There was another person there, too. Someone he hadn't seen in years or thought of in a long time. Johanna had told him Kate was engaged to a doctor. Not only had he not considered who it might actually be, but he had assumed that it would just be the four of them tonight. The possibility that she would bring her fiancé had not even crossed his mind.

"Mr. Castle, so glad you could make it," Johanna said, looking at him with a smile.

"I'm glad you invited me," he said in a husky voice, only half-lying.

"This is my husband, Jim."

Jim regarded him in his polite, quiet, thoughtful Jim Beckett way, reaching out to shake Castle's hand only to see that it was injured and taking the left instead."It's an honour to have you in our home, Mr. Castle."

"Thank you for having me," Castle replied.

"And this is Joshua, Katie's fiancé," Johanna said.

Reluctantly, Castle looked up at the one person in the room whose presence he was trying to ignore. His hair was shorter in this dimension which made him look a lot better, Castle acknowledged with no short degree of bitterness. He probably should have expected something like this, but really, there was no bike out the front. How could he possibly have known?

Joshua Davidson's presence in Kate's life, other than causing a deep sickness in his chest, only served to confuse things further. He got that without Johanna's death, Kate probably would have finished her law degree rather than joining the police force. she and Castle had met because of a series of murders. It would be unlikely that their paths would have crossed otherwise.

But without Castle in her life, how had she come to end up with Josh? Castle had long assumed she'd only dated Josh to get over him that summer he'd spent in the Hamptons with Gina, and he had ended up as a convenient excuse to keep Castle at a distance; in hindsight that was quite obvious. She had never told him how they had actually met, though. Josh Davidson was not a frequent topic of discussion between the two of them.

Joshua gave him a friendly smile and reached out his left hand.

"Richard Castle. The amount of times I've seen your face on the back of Kate's book jackets, I feel like I already knew you."

Castle shook hands with him, forcing a smile. The last time - from his point of view - that the two men had touched, Josh had slammed him up against a hospital wall. Of course, from Joshua's point of view, this was their first meeting.

Castle saw Kate throw Joshua a look.

"What? Is that supposed to be a secret?" Joshua teased. "I'm not even allowed to touch the book you signed for her. It's in our bedroom - "

"Yes, on my side of the bed," she teased back, smiling now, her tone light.

Well, he really shouldn't be surprised that they lived together. It was 2014 after all and they were engaged. That didn't stop it from feeling as if he'd been punched in the gut as unwanted images of the two of them together flooded his mind.

"Thank you, for that, by the way," Kate said. "I mean, I know you sign books all the time, but I really appreciate it."

She appeared flustered and nervous in his presence. If Joshua hadn't been there, Castle would probably be thoroughly enjoying this conversation. Joshua. Why did it have to be Dr. Motorcycle Boy?

Why couldn't it be Demming or Sorenson? He could even live with Rogan O'Leary. Josh was a sore spot for Castle. He would always be grateful for what the heart surgeon had done for Kate.

His quick actions on the day she was shot had probably saved her life. But for so long, Joshua had been a road-block in his relationship with Kate, a source of jealousy and frustration, a blow to his ego. It didn't help that he was one of the few people tall enough for Castle to look up to in his adult life. However, this version of Joshua didn't carry the burden of their past history.

"It was my pleasure," he told Kate, holding her gaze for perhaps a second or two longer than was necessary.

She looked away, appearing to be uncomfortable. He made a mental note to tone it down. Like Josh, Kate had no knowledge of who they were to each other, or who they could be, rather. She didn't share his history, or his love. To her, he was merely her favourite author. He was back to square one.

* * *

As they sat down to eat, Castle noted a few things that made him uncomfortable. First of all was the close proximity between Josh and Kate. Ok, so, he knew they were engaged and stuff but her parents were sitting right there, not to mention a highly acclaimed best-selling author. Did they have to be so... so... couple-y?

Secondly, Josh and Kate had brought wine, and Jim was on his second glass. He had never seen the man - a recovering alcoholic in Castle's world - take so much as a sip of alcohol in the entire time they'd known each other.

Thirdly, everybody was so at ease with each other and he was the odd man out. He resented the warm gaze Jim gave Joshua, the way he called him "son," the way Joshua called Johanna "Jo". He'd wanted to see Kate again, but he couldn't talk to her in this environment. If only he could get her on her own somehow, but he didn't see how that would be possible.

"So, Mr. Castle," said Jim, "you have a new book coming out soon."

Crap. He was a well-known author. He should have been prepared to be asked about his work. He wasn't sure how he could bluff his way through a conversation about a book he couldn't remember writing and hadn't bothered reading.

"Yes," he said, playing it safe.

"I hear it's based on a controversial topic," Jim said.

He thought back to the cover art. Was it about 9/11?

"Well, all my books are controversial in some way. I've dealt with murder, rape, espionage, revenge - "

"But this one's a little more on the political side, isn't it?" Jim pressed.

He tilted his head slightly. He got along well with the Jim he knew, the man who'd suffered an unimaginable loss and slowly built his way back up from rock bottom. That Jim liked Castle, thought he was good for his daughter and accepted him for his past transgressions and flaws. This man was still Jim Beckett, but there was a critical edge to his tone.

Castle shrugged.

"It's fiction."

"The synopsis has been released, Mr. Castle," Jim said. "The similarities with the 2011 dirty bombing are there. You have not been shy about voicing your opinions about a conspiracy."

"Dad - "

Castle appreciated Kate rushing to his defence, but he felt he should answer the question.

"It's ok. Was Dan Brown making a statement about religion with his books or is it just a rich tapestry for ideas? Was JK Rowling promoting witchcraft or was it just fantasy? Am I trying to make a political statement or am I just taking inspiration from real life and using it my work? There are things that didn't add up. I had questions."

"Which is totally understandable," Johanna interjected.

"Those questions may have manifested themselves in my writing,'" Castle continued. "It's an odd - it's an odd job. You - your emotions and your thoughts are on display and you're naked for all to see."

Kate suddenly seemed fascinated with the olives in her Spirali Calebrese but it appeared she was blushing. Was she picturing him naked?

Joshua cleared his throat. Johanna stifled a laugh and Jim stared him down with interest.

"You - you know, figuratively, not literally,'" Castle stammered. "I wouldn't literally - well, I have but that was a long time ago. My point is -"

"I think what Mr. Castle is trying to say is that we all deal with things in our own way on our own terms," Johanna said. "All great artists have been labelled as controversial in their time. Even though Bob Dylan said he regretted writing The Hurricane, that doesn't make it any less of a great song -"

"Except that because of that song, a killer was freed," Jim pointed out.

"Well, I believe many killers are walking free," Castle said. "I believe that the Alhabis were framed. I don't believe in sinning in silence."

"To sin by silence when they should protest makes cowards of men," Johanna said, smiling.

"Ella Wilcox," Kate said.

He looked over at her and smiled.

"Yes. Yes, that's right."

Josh looked at the three of them.

"Sounds like a good quote," he said.

"It's a great quote," Jim said. "But what if your... _Literature_ exacerbates an already fragile situation? We just moved our troops out of Syria, we're still in Iraq - "

Woah, new information. Crap. Castle was usually pretty good at keeping up with current events but not the events of a different reality.

"I don't know if dinner is the best time for politics," Johanna said.

"We talk about politics all the time at dinner," Jim said.

"Yes, but we have a guest," she said.

"Josh isn't a guest?" Jim asked.

"Josh is family. That's different," Johanna argued. "Or, he will be pretty soon."

Castle ignored the painful twinge this comment caused.

"You flatter me, Mr. Beckett," Castle said. He much preferred defending his work to hearing Johanna rave about her future-son-in-law when she wasn't referring to him. "I try to bring out the best work I can, but at the end of the day, I'm not exactly Shakespeare. I mean, most people are not going to take this seriously. What I do... It's entertainment - extremely we'll-written, meticulously crafted entertainment. But I'll be the first to admit that it's not high art."

"We'll, I'm really enjoying your work, Mr. Castle," Johanna said.

"You are?" As preposterous as this entire situation was, Johanna's approval somehow still meant something to him. He had only just met this woman, and the life he shared with her daughter in his own world meant nothing here, yet somehow, knowing she liked his stuff made him feel warm and fuzzy.

"Yes, you're very talented," she said.

"Thank you."

His smile faded when his eyes drifted over to Josh and Kate, who seemed to be in the middle of their own quiet, intimate conversation. Her hand was on his arm as she smiled; whispering softly to the doctor, his own hand resting on her knee - at least, Castle hoped it was her knee. He didn't want to see this, didn't want to know about it. But perhaps he needed to.

Perhaps he needed to see for himself that she was happy, that Josh treated her well, that it was a good relationship. Her mother was alive, her father had never had to suffer through the pain of overcoming addiction and she was a lawyer, what she had always aspired to be.

She didn't have Castle. But she didn't need him.

Painful as that simple truth was, he had to admit it to himself. This version of Kate didn't need him. This version of Kate was free from walls and grief. This was not the Kate Beckett that loved him.

* * *

After desert, Joshua offered to help out in the kitchen - of course he did, he was a regular Boy Scout, wasn't he? - while Kate, Jim and Castle sat in the living room for brandy.

"Sorry if I offended you," Jim said.

"No, not at all," Castle said. "I admire a man who can ask the tough questions."

"Well, it was my job for over thirty years," Jim said, to be fair. "I have to hand it to you, you held your own."

"Thank you," Castle said.

"Katie, you've been sort of quiet," Jim noted. "That's unusual for you. Don't you have any questions for our guest? I mean, this is your favourite author.

"How many more chances like this are you going to have?"

Castle would happily give Kate all the chances she wanted. He would visit her every day if only to discuss his work with her. But he couldn't say that, because out of context it seemed weird. Actually in context it was even weirder, because in context, he was a man from an alternate reality who had tracked down the woman he had been engaged to, who was engaged to another man in this reality and had never met him.

"I do actually have a question," Kate said, looking up.

Castle straightened.

"Yes?"

"What's the long version?"

"Excuse me?"

"Your hand," Kate said. "You said it was a long story. So what's the short version?"

He was only thrown for a second. The answer then came easily.

"I punched a lion."

Both Jim and Kate stared at him.

"It's true," he maintained, choosing not to elaborate and leave an air of mystery instead. Or let them think he was making it up.

There was a beat, and suddenly the pair both burst into laughter.

"You certainly lead an interesting life, don't you, Mr. Castle?" Jim said.

Sighing and relaxing, Castle smiled. This felt a lot more normal. He, Kate and her father - minus the part where Jim was heartily enjoying his glass of brandy - sitting around, laughing, was something that had begun to et more and more common in his other life. He could almost pretend things were the way they were supposed to be - but weren't they already?

With the exception of himself, wasn't everyone the same or better off in this world, in a world where Johanna Beckett hadn't been murdered? Was this how things were supposed to be, and somehow they'd been corrected, with Castle, for some reason, the only one who could remember the way things had been? If so, it was terribly cruel for God, fate, the powers that be, Mr. Universe, whatever, to allow him to remember what he'd had with Beckett after having it ripped away from him. He hoped that wasn't the case. He hoped there was a way back to his old life, where he had a place in hers.

* * *

After they'd finished washing up, Joshua and Johanna joined them.

"Well, that was absolutely delicious, Jo," Joshua said.

"Yes, I concur," Castle said. "Like a pizza topping on pasta." Why did he let himself speak words?

"I have an early shift so..." He turned to Kate. "If you're ready...?"

"Yeah," she said getting up and holding his hand. "Ooh, your hands are wrinkly."

Joshua smiled and kissed her fingers.

"Good practice for our old age."

She smiled softly and kissed him on the lips. There was not an ounce of hesitation in her gaze, or her body. She loved this man and she was happy with him.

And that was ok, he tried to tell himself. It was totally ok that she was in love with another man, because his Kate - his Kate was back in his own world, waiting for him to come home. His Kate wanted him, his Kate loved him, and his Kate was planning on spending the rest of her life with _him_, Castle, not Dr. Motorcycle Boy.

"Thanks for dinner, Mom," she said, moving from her fiancé's embrace to her mother's.

"Oh, my pleasure. sweetheart," she said, kissing her daughter's forehead.

Castle smiled as he watched the scene. Maybe this was a gift, not a curse. Maybe this was a chance for him to see the two together, for Beckett to know that in some universe, her mother was alive and still an important part of her life. He would tell her. He would tell her when he saw her again. He had to see her again.

"Goodnight Dad," she said, hugging Jim.

"Goodnight, Katie," her father said, as Joshua and Johanna said their goodbyes.

"Good to meet you," Josh said to Castle' shaking his hand. Son of a gun had a firm grip. _Easy, I'm a former cancer patient._

He held back a grimace and nodded politely.

"It was very nice to meet you, too."

Then, Kate was in front of him, smiling shyly.

"Mr. Castle, it was... enlightening."

Resisting the urge to kiss her hand, which he would totally do if she wasn't happily engaged, with her fiancé standing right there, he replied, "It was truly enchanting to meet you, Kate."

She waved awkwardly as Joshua wrapped a coat around her and the two left.

"Well," Castle said, "I'm not supposed to be up too late - doctor's orders - so, I think I'll be heading back, too."

"Thank you for the lively discussion," Jim said, holding out his hand. Thankfully, he was a lot gentler - and Castle had never noticed this before, but his hands were extremely soft. What kind of hand cream did he use?

_Focus, Rick, he's staring at you._

"You were truly a worthy opponent," he replied, giving his most charming grin.

"Well, Mr. Castle, why don't I walk you out," Johanna offered.

"I - thank you," Castle said.

Once they were on the other side of the door, he could see Kate and Joshua's car driving away. He watched them leave, his gaze wistful.

"I'm glad you came tonight, Mr. Castle.

"So am I," he said, and he meant it. At times it had been painful, but coming here had been a good thing.

"Thank you for not telling my husband about my digging into the case."

"It wasn't my place."

"Jim wants us to enjoy our twilight years without getting mixed up in work again. That part of our lives is over. I just - I was so fascinated by you."

"I'm an endlessly fascinating man, so I can't fault you there."

She smiled.

Up close, Johanna smelt like warm cookies. She would make an excellent grandmother._ Fucking hell, Rick, stop torturing yourself._

"Vincit Omnia Veritas, Mr. Castle."

It had not been too long ago from his perspective that he had learnt the significance of that saying to Johanna Beckett, and he had since learned that it was the inscription on her tombstone. Beckett had finally taken him to visit her grave after arresting Bracken. On that occasion, he _had_ brought flowers. Yet here she stood in front of him, saying those very words.

"Truth conquers all," Castle said.

"And the writer has it again," Johanna said. "Whatever the true story is, it'll come out. If the Alhabis are innocent, nobody can keep that truth hidden forever."

"Don't worry," Castle said, giving her a crooked smile, "I never quit until I get the whole story."


	11. Something to Think about

** I will again remind readers that I can not guarantee a happy ending**.*

**Whoever knows which American TV show unjustly cancelled after one season starring a British actor I allude to in this chapter gets a virtual cookie. **

* * *

Castle walked through his door close to midnight. After locking the door behind him and changing into comfortable clothes, he turned on the lamp in his study and slumped down into his chair. He gathering his thoughts for several moments, then opened the top drawer to reveal the copy of Sudden Risk that had remained untouched since he'd received it.

Flipping it over, he read the synopsis.

Noting the similarity with the real-life bombing, he proceeded to read the book, cover to cover.

_Here we go,_ he thought to himself.

* * *

He woke up the next day with his head on the desk and a pain in his neck. He squinted at the morning sun and reached behind his neck as he looked down at the book, which was face down on top of the desk.· He'd only had a few pages left when he'd finally succumbed to sleep, which he finished before he rose stiffly,showered, dressed and made a new journal entry.

A lot had happened in the last twenty four hours: he'd found Roy Montgomery alive, learned about more details pertaining to the Pulgatti case, had dinner with the Beckett family, had his heart practically torn apart by an obliviously happy engaged couple and read this book, which, well-written though it may be, was not really his style.· It started out as your usual action disaster piece: a bomb threat, a savvy agent charged with finding those responsible and a ticking clock to avert disaster.

The protagonist - agent Mike Tallon - appears to find those responsible, but finds out too late that he was wrong and the suspect is innocent.· His mistake costs the city dearly when the bomb goes off.· Tallon eventually finds out that rogue government agents had been behind the bombing in order to declare war on the middle eastern country the suspects hail from, but is paid off to stay silent.· The government covers everything up by framing the suspect, and the point of view switches to a family man whose wife and child both perished in the blast.· He uncovers the plot and is sanctioned with extreme prejudice by a black ops hit squad for his efforts.· The conspiracy remains hidden, the bad guys win and justice is not served. That was where the book ended.·

It was a bold, thought-provoking ending.· Nothing like the way his books would usually end. Justice would always prevail in his standalone novels.· It seemed his other self had obviously become much more jaded and cynical. It also seemed – even though this was a fictional account - that while, as he'd found in the virtual murderboard full of evidence that the other Richard Castle had put together, he had managed to find all of the information he should have needed to point him in the right direction, he'd had come to absolutely the wrong conclusion: that the U.S. Government had been responsible for framing the Alhabis and had bombed their own country to justify a war against Syria.·

It was the 9/11 conspiracy theories all over again. He felt not just sick but ashamed of his alternate self for even suggesting it. Jim's accusations now seemed much more justified than he had originally thought.

Not only that, but the thinly veiled attack on Agent Mark Fallon's integrity was not only grossly inaccurate, but downright morally wrong. Was the other Richard Castle even aware that Agent Fallon's wife had ridden the second tower down on the day the World Trade Centre was attacked? That he had been on the phone with her when it happened? That he had dedicated his life to keep that from happening again?

Had he even met Mark Fallon or had he based his characterisation purely on the man's reputation?

So many thoughts, so many feelings, so much frustration.

* * *

After lunch, he turned his attentions to_ Homage To A Murder, _which had filled him with much trepidation before he was sure he wasn't dreaming, thinking this might be a red band/green band situation. Now that those fears had been assuaged, he took it to the most comfortable chair in the living room and began to read that as well.

It was centred around a Wes Craven style Hollywood horror screenwriter/director who is called in for questioning by the LAPD in reference to a series of murders staged to resemble death scenes in his films. Of course, the screen-writer decides to assist the police in their investigation and finds the key evidence that solves the case.

There were many differences with the events in the investigation of the Allison Tisdale case as he remembered them, but the similarities were there and too numerous to be mere coincidence.

* * *

Castle was going through the details of the Alhabi case on the virtual murderboard when Martha got home.

"Oh, no," she said from behind him.

He turned around.

"Mother," he said. "You're back."

"Richard, I thought forgetting this investigation would help you move on from it. This is not healthy. You made this your obsession. It's almost as bad as that Sophia Turner situation."

Castle froze.

"Sophia Turner?"

"She was a CIA agent you shadowed - "

"I know who she was, mother."

"Do you know that she was a mole who conspired to trigger world war three?"

"Yes," Castle said.

Martha looked surprised.

"Really? You've been convinced of her innocence since she was killed two years ago."

"Well, I guess I can add that to the list of things I've been wrong about lately." There was a sharp edge to his tone.

"And what about Damien Westlake? Have you changed your mind about him, too?"

"Damien is innocent of his wife's murder but guilty of conspiring to kill his father."

"He's serving time for his wife's murder. They never had enough evidence to convict him of his father's."

Castle shrugged.

"Well, it's not exactly justice, but it will do."

Martha examined her son.

"What's come over you, Richard?" she asked.

"The truth," he replied. "What do you know about _Homage to a Murder?"_

Martha blinked.

"Your book?"

"Yes."

"Well it was very good, dear."

He rolled his eyes.

"Not what I meant. The story. Did I base it on true events?"

"Yes. The copycat killer who was aping your books. You we're rather proud of that, as I recall, until you discovered you were just a red herring to disguise the true killer. "

"So I helped catch the killer?"

"Not exactly. You assisted with the investigation, overstepped your mark, got arrested, let off with a warning and asked to stay out of the investigation, persisted and only stopped when Senator Weldon called you into his office."

"Wait - senator?"

She nodded.

"Of course he was still mayor at the time. It turned out, you were right about the real killer, but by the time it was proven he'd already fled the country. He's still on the run. It was very embarrassing for the NYPD. Bob was able to arrange a few ride-alongs for you. You shadowed different precincts for about three weeks before declaring it boring and simply basing your novel on that case."

"Huh," Castle said. "You've given me something to think about, mother."

* * *

**Plant a seed. Watch it grow**.


	12. Old Blue Eyes

**_Apologies for the obnoxiously long Author's Notes(Beginning and end)._**

**_Awake _****is where the red band/green band thing comes from****_. _****Damn, that was a good show. So much wasted potential.**

** Thank you as always to my beta, Shutterbug5269, and everyone else who had my back when the my fic was in "Peril", so to speak. If you don't know what I am talking about, be grateful. It's all over now.**

**Over 200 followers. Woo-hoo!**

** There is a line in this chapter inspired by a deleted scene from ****_In The Belly of The Beast_****, written by Andrew Marlowe and David Amann. Special thanks to the Castle Wiki for the info about the character that comes into this chapter. I knew most of it but it's hard to think of stuff all at once. Thinking is hard.**

** Who knows where the friendship on fire quote actually comes from? I've given up trying. **

** Please respect each other in the reviews, and don't jump to conclusions, because that usually leads to extreme badness. I love ****_Offspring_****, too.**

* * *

**"**Well, dear, I'm glad," Martha said, kissing her son on the cheek. "What with Alexis coming back for Summer break -"

"Wait, what?" Castle sputtered, confused.

Martha sighed, "Do try to keep up Richard, I know you've been confused lately, but you shouldn't have forgotten the fact that it's late May."

Castle ran his fingers through his hair.

"But she just moved out," Castle replied.

"She moved out a lot of her things because she was staying here for a long time," Martha pointed out. "You know Alexis, with her there's a place for everything and everything has its place."

"But it's _Summer_," Castle complained, "she should be out having fun with her friends, not staying with her Dad."

"Kiddo, you convinced her to go to Costa Rica last Summer and she spent most of that trip feeling guilty about not being here with you," she reminded him, which he was sure was quite necessary, seeing as his recollections of her trip had been quite different.

"But I'm healthy now," Rick said, not sure whom he was trying to convince, his mother or himself.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Martha quipped sardonically.

He sighed, but Martha continued before he could say more.

"You were looking forward to the Summer. With no classes, you have a chance to spend some quality time with her," Martha told him.

Castle perked up a little. "Well... If it's what she really wants."

"Richard, she's a Daddy's girl from way back. Trust me, it's what she wants."

* * *

The next morning, shortly after Martha had left, there was a knock at the door.

Castle never would have guessed who it would be, and when he opened the door he didn't have a chance to react when the man had started talking, a no-nonsense look on his face.

"Richard Castle."

It wasn't a question, but Castle answered it anyway. "Yes."

The man flashed a federal badge at him. "Agent Kevin Ryan, FBI."

Unable to do much else, Rick waved. "Hi."

"Mr. Castle, would you care to explain to me why you've been trying to find me, and how you got my private, unlisted home number?" Agent Ryan asked, all business.

Castle regarded "Agent Kevin Ryan" for a moment. His clothes were more muted than the ones the Kevin Ryan he knew liked to wear, but if he'd learned anything during his time here, it was that everyone was essentially the same person underneath the superficial differences of circumstance and experience. Hell, when he'd first met Ryan, he'd practically lived in leather jackets. If anyone was ever going to believe him, it would be Kevin Ryan.

"Certainly," Rick replied, "if you'd like to come in?"

Kevin raised an eyebrow but took him up on his offer, stepping inside the loft.

"Please, take a seat. This may take a while."

Kevin complied and Castle sat across from him.

"It starts with a girl - a woman, actually. The woman I love," Castle stated without preamble.

"Mr. Castle, I came here for the truth, not some story," Kevin said.

"This _is_ the truth" Castle stated with more than a little mischief in his eyes (he couldn't help himself when it came to Ryan), "but if you didn't want a story, you shouldn't have come to me. I was looking for her - the woman I love - and I thought you might be able to help me."

"And what exactly gave you that impression?" Ryan asked, not sure where Castle was going.

"Ok," Rick said quietly. "This is the part you may have trouble with. "

Kevin folded his arms expectantly.

"I'm not of this world," Castle said.

"Excuse me?" Ryan stated, looking at him like he'd suddenly grown a second head, or was measuring him for a straight-jacket, Castle wasn't sure which.

"I come from a different reality," Castle continued. "Kind of like this one but with some differences. I was hoping that the woman I loved would exist here. In my world, she worked with you and Javier Esposito - "

"The other man you were looking for," Kevin said. He seemed to be as well informed as Javier had been.

"I found him," Castle said. "I had to make up a story with him but i can tell you the truth because you might actually believe me."

"Well, that's where you're wrong," Ryan told him with conviction, and more than a little irritation, "if you want to ask me what I know about the Alhabi investigation, just ask. You don't need to involve my family."

"Kevin," Castle said, "I have no intention - "

"Don't call me Kevin," Ryan stated firmly. "You don't know me."

"Yes I do," Castle stated, then delivered the punch-line, "you once dated a girl who was into the vampire lifestyle. You're allergic to goose feathers. You loved Curious George as a kid - still do. Roller-coasters make you sick. If you had the money you'd buy a winery because that's where you and Jenny went on your first vacation."

"You've been looking into my personal details? " Kevin said, his voice taking on a harder edge.

"You _told_ me your personal details, Kevin."

"Look, I'm willing to let this go no further if you promise to back off, but you're gonna have to quit with this crap."

"I know about Fenton O'Connell.· "

Kevin looked rattled for the first time since he'd arrived.·

"What did you say?·"

"I said I know about Fenton O'Connell."

"How did you - where did you hear that?"

"You told me about it."

"I would never tell anyone about that, even if i could. "

"I know," Castle said, "you only did because Siobahn showed up at the precinct and made out with you in front of your wife."

His features darkened. "If this is some kind of joke, it's not funny. I don't know who your source is - "

"I don't have a source, K - Agent Ryan." He sighed. "Look, I thought maybe you would believe me, but you could never remember a life you never lived, so how could I expect you to take my word for it? I mean, it's not like you know me."

Kevin looked at Castle long and hard. "What's your angle here, Mr. Castle?"

Castle sighed and got up. "No angle. Not any more. Scotch?"

"I'm on call," Kevin replied.

Castle nodded and headed to his study, Kevin followong close behind him.

"You were always the best of us, Kevin," Castle said as he poured himself a glass.

"Should you be drinking?" Kevin asked.

"I was cleared to drink now that I've been in remission for three months," he said, taking a sip. "I mean it. I was the brains, Esposito was the muscle, you were the heart. I have never met a man so loyal, never seen a father so attentive, never come across a husband so loving. I'm only telling you because you're not the other you. If you ever run into yourself, don't say a word. It'll be our secret."

Kevin nearly went cross-eyed.  
"Mr. Castle, are you currently on any medication?" he asked Castle.

Castle snorted. "I wish."

"Is this your first drink today?" Kevin pressed.

"Look at you," Castle said, amused in spite of himself. "All concerned over a man you don't know, who just five minutes ago you perceived to be a threat to your family. You're such a good man, in any reality," he said sincerely.

"What about the woman you loved?" Ryan asked.

Castle looked up. "Are you humouring me, Agent Ryan?

"I always liked a good story," Ryan replied.

He shook his head and led the younger man back into his living room.

"Her name is Kate," he stated.

"And what is she?" Ryan asked.

"What do you mean?" Castle asked as he sat back down.

"If Esposito is the muscle, you're the... _brains_," - Castle didn't miss the brief eye-roll -" and I'm the heart, what does that make Kate?"

Castle put his drink onto the coffee table.

"Kate." He chuckled. "Agent Ryan, when I said the best of us, I meant the best of the three of us. None of us come close to Kate Beckett. Brains, brawn, beauty, bravery, heart, she's got it all in spades and then some."

"She sounds like a hell of a woman."

"She is. And I found her. Here. In this reality."

Kevin sat up straight. "You did?"

Castle nodded, picking up his glass again. "She's engaged to another man. She's a big time corporate lawyer. Her mother's alive. She was never shot. She's happy. Much better off without me."

He took another drink.

"Sounds like she's been through a lot,' Kevin remarked.

"We both have," Castle said. "Or perhaps not. Does anything I remember actually count here?" He shook his head. "A better man than me would be glad. A better man than me would be happy as long as she's happy. I'm selfish. I want her to be happy with _me_. The truth is, in a universe where she never met me, she's a hell of a lot happier."

"It's always hard, letting the people that you love go, Mr. Castle," Kevin offered.

"Are you starting to believe me, Kevin?" Castle asked.

"I didn't say that," Kevin hedged.

Castle took one last gulp of his scotch and set the glass back down, smacking his lips.

"I just - " He sighed. "It's not like that other world is perfect. Far from it. I've been through all sorts of things, been held at gunpoint more times than I can remember. Kate was there, every single time. She had my back, and I had hers. When we were together, no matter how bad things got, I always knew everything would be ok because... we were together."

"I hate this. I hate being without her. I hate being noble when all I want to do is woo her away from Dr. Perfect Surgeon Guy and into my arms where she God-damn well belongs. I love her, though, Kevin, that's the thing. I love her so passionately, and so fiercely, enough to let her go. I have to live with the knowledge of what we could be, what we are in another world, while also knowing that I can never get her back. Love can be a real ass sometimes."

He squinted up at Kevin, who was rubbing his face."Kevin, are you - are you crying?"

"I have something in my eye,'' Kevin replied quickly, his voice cracking ever so slightly.

"Look, Agent Ryan, I promise I won't bother you or your family or anyone else. I know that the Alhabi's are innocent, but I've already caused enough trouble."

"So you really think it's all one big government conspiracy?"

Castle snorted. "No, that was the other me. God, that guy seems like a bitter jackass. It's Kevin McCann."

"Who's Kevin McCann?" Agent Ryan asked.

"A member of Special Forces who died in action years ago," Castle replied.

"What's a fallen soldier got to do with this?" Kevin asked.

"That's the identity Radford Hayes was using," Castle said.

"And... Who's Radford Hayes?" Ryan asked.

"Another bitter jackass, but a much more dangerous one than my Mr. Hyde. Does that work? Eh, it'll do,'" he said with a wave of his hand. "Anyway, Hayes led a small but severely pissed-of group of highly trained, disenfranchised former soldiers, all with the goal of blessing the USA with another wake up call; a second 9/11 to give the government an incentive to win the war."

"That sounds incredibly far-fetched," Kevin said.

"Oh, yeah," Castle agreed. "It definitely sounds it."

"But... It sounds much more reasonable than your other theory."

"Not _my_ theory," Castle said plainly. "And I agree."

"Tell you what, Mr. Castle." Ryan said quietly. "I can't... promise you anything but... I'll look into it."

Castle raised his head, shocked. "Seriously?"

"Maybe I'm insane, but I think I actually believe your crazy story, Mr. Castle."

Now it was Castle who was close to tears as he stood up.

"Thank - I can't - Oh, Kevin, you have no idea -" Castle shook his hand with vigour.

Kevin chuckled. "Alright, settle down. There, there, buddy," he said, patting Castle on the back.

"I can't believe I'm finally doing some good," he said.

"Well... Look, it's not even strictly my department. I'm in Narcotics."

Castle nodded. "I know how it works. You talk to someone who talks to someone who talks to the right someone and then they decide whether to move forward. I get it. The fact that you're tying means so much. God, you reallly are a great man, Kevin Ryan."

Kevin shook his head. "You know, I could see us being friends' " he said.

"Oh, you have no idea," Castle said. "We're so close, people call you Castle Junior."

Kevin paused, then laughed. "Why - why would they call me that?"

"'Cause you're always following me around, hanging off my every word, you're a massive fan of my books - "

"I haven't read one of your books."

"Sure, not here, but - "

"I bet it's the other way around," Kevin said, " I bet _you're_ the one following _me_ around, hanging off _my_ every word. They probably call you _Ryan _Junior_."_

_C_astle scoffed. "I'm older than you."

_"_Age doesn't speak to maturity. I've always been told I'm an old soul. You said yourself, I'm a better man than you."

"I also said, 'I'm the brains.' You learn a lot from me."

Now it was Kevin's turn to scoff. "Yeah, I'm sure a crime novelist has plenty to teach me."

Castle shook his head and smiled wistfully. "I missed this. I miss you, Kevin."

Kevin nodded. "I'm sorry," he said, "for everything you lost."

Castle sighed. "Maybe it wasn't mine to begin with. Maybe it was just on loan. And now it's time to let go. Move on. I saw and felt real beauty. I was honoured enough to know the kind of love I thought I could only write about. I remember that, I can still taste her on my tongue, and no one can ever take that away from me."

Kevin nodded slowly. "What happened to Siobahn in your world?"

Castle was slightly taken aback by the question, but answered.  
"Well, she was an informant, and she was discovered, but you had gone back under your old cover as Fentonl, which was still good, they accepted you, and you were given the gun, told to shoot Siobahn. It was a test, but you'd already called for backup. They were arrested, and Siobahn was put into witness protection."

Kevin looked down.

"Really?" He asked quietly, looking back up. "She's - she's alive, where you're from? She's ok?"

Castle nodded. He didn't need to ask what had happened to Siobahn here, and frankly he didn't want to know the details.

Kevin looked thoughtful for a long time. "Me and Jenny? Are we still...?"

"Happily married, with an adorable five-month old daughter."

"Sarah?"

Castle grinned. "Sarah Grace exists here, too?"

Ryan grinned and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, she does."

Castle patted Ryan's shoulder. "Look at you, man. Big time FBI agent. I'm really happy for you, Kevin."

"Thanks man," he said. "I hope... Things work out for you."

Castle gave a crooked smile. "I don't even know what that would mean at this point, but thank you."

The two blue eyed men stood in silence for a moment, cobalt staring into crystal.

Finally, Kevin waved awkwardly and went through the door, leaving Castle alone, again, as he shut it. As wonderful as it was to finally be believed, as much as he'd loved connecting with his friend, that man wasn't really his friend. He hadn't earned this Kevin's loyalty yet, but it seemed as if he already had it. Kevin could be putting his career in jeopardy for him, and he felt more than a little guilty abut that.

* * *

Not long after Ryan's departure, Alexis arrived. After she had unpacked and settled in, they sat down for lunch.

"So, how did things go with Max?" He asked.

"As well as can be expected," Alexis replied. "He took it pretty well, said he still wanted to be friends, but I told him I needed some time."

Castle smiled. "I'm proud of you. You did the right thing."

She smiled sadly and they ate in silence.

"Dad?" Alexis asked, halfway through lunch.

"Mmm?" Castle replied.

"Is everything ok?"

"Sure," he said, with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"You've always been honest with me - well, most of the time. What's going on? Has it got something to do with your health?" Alexia asked, looking worried.

"No," he assured her. "My transplant team says I am doing really well. I can have coffee and junk food again."

"Well that is amazing, Dad," she said, hugging him, "but..."

"What is it, Pumpkin?"

Alexis sighed. "What happened to your hand, Dad?"

Castle looked down. The last time he'd changed his bandage his hand had looked close to being healed. Soon, he'd be ready to go without any bandages all together.

"This? Oh, nothing for you to worry about, Alexis. Just an accident - "

"Dad," she said sternly, clearly not buying his story.

Castle exhaled.  
"I may have had a slight disagreement with Linus."

"Linus?" Her eyebrows raised. "Are you telling me you punched a glass portrait?"

Castle shrugged sheepishly.

"Maybe a little?"

"Dad, I don't get it. You adore that portrait. What's going on?"

Castle looked at his daughter for a long moment. He had sworn he wouldn't put this burden on Alexis until he found out what was happening. Though he had a pretty good idea of what _wasn't_ happening, he still wasn't completely sure what_ was_. On the other hand, Alexis was a grown adult, and though she probably wouldn't believe him, she deserved to hear the truth. So, he took a deep breath and told her - everything.

* * *

Alexis simply stared at him. She'd listened politely as he'd recounted the story, and now he didn't know how she would react.

"So, what are you going to do?" she asked finally.

"About...?"

"Kate. You can't just give up."

It took Castle a while to process what she was saying.  
"You believe me?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"You found her, right? So you have proof."

"And you take my word for it?"

"Of cours,e Dad. I know when you're lying. It's not something you do often, but I know your tell. And I would know if you were crazy."

"You don't think I'm crazy?"

"No, Dad. Reckless sometimes... Really intense, at others. But never crazy."

"I'm amazed that you believe me and your Grandmother doesn't. I would have thought it would be the other way around. You're supposed to be the level-headed, practical one. Mother's the one who always encouraged me to keep an open mind about the supernatural."

"She's in protective mode," Alexis pointed out. "She nearly lost her son."

"You nearly lost your father," he said.

Alexis went quiet.  
"Did I?" She asked quietly.

Castle inched closer to her.  
"What do you mean, sweetie?"

She looked up.  
"The other version of you. The one form this world. Do you have any idea where he is? Do you still sense his presence?"

His heart broke for her. He didn't want to think too much on it. As far as he was concerned, _this _was his daughter. At the same time, she had a right to the father she knew, the father who shared her experiences. What had happened to this other him? Was he gone? Was Castle supposed to be some kind of replacement?  
"I'm so sorry, Pumpkin, no. I have no idea where he is."

She paused for a long time.  
"It's ok," she said, "you're still my Dad. You still remember giving me my stuffed Monkey, right?"

He smiled.  
"Monkey Bunky, how could I forget?"

"And taking me to the park?Playing laser tag?"

He nodded.  
"Of course. Some of the best days of my life."

"My first word?"

"Denouement," he said immediately.

She hugged him.  
"I still love you, Dad."

"Me, too, Pumpkin."

She looked up at him ." I have never heard you speak of any one the way you did about Kate just now. You must really love her, too."

He gave a solemn nod.  
"I do."

"You should go after her'," she suggested.

"She's engaged to another man," he reminded her, slightly taken aback.

"I'm not suggesting that you help her cheat. I'm suggesting that you woo her, like a gentleman. Nothing sneaky or underhanded. Just be yourself."

"Alexis, I think backing off is the right thing to do in this situation."

"Screw the right thing to do. You have one life, and I want to see my Dad live it, I want you to be happy. Admittedly, I don't know this Josh guy, but I don't have to in order to know that Kate would be trading up if she went with you because you're the greatest guy in the world. "

"That's really sweet but I don't have a shot, Alexis."

"Remember that Laura Hendricks quote you paraphrased?_ Love is friendship caught on fire. It's quiet confidence -_"

"I wasn't quoting Laura Hendricks," he interrupted her.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Jeremy Taylor?"

"Bruce Lee, actually."

"Well, either way, Dad, you love her. And you have confidence in that love, and... You know she's capable of loving you, which means you're in with a chance."

"I still don't - "

"Take your own advice, Dad. Is Kate someone who can be a true partner in life, someone you have passion for - you don't have to go into detail about that part by the way?"

"Yes."

"Then go for it. If she's truly committed to this guy, there's no way you can come between them. No offence, but what have you really got to lose?"

He shrugged.  
"You?"

"You'll never lose me, Dad." She kissed him on the forehead. "I'll support you no matter what."

* * *

**I thank each and every one of my reviewers for commenting on my story, no matter what you think of it. I responded to a specific guest review from last chapter on my tumblr, but just in case that person doesn't see it, I'll briefly respond here too, without rehashing the same thing.**

**Yes, anon, real life is hard sometimes (especially right now, geez Louise. How much can one planet take?) but there is also beauty in it, and that beauty doesn't just come out of the easy things, but the hard things, too. I love sharing my story and seeing what you guys think but I write it for me.**

** I am not going to change the ending just to make a few people happy. This is _my_ hobby. I'm happy to recommend many great fics with a happy ending to anyone who would like to PM me (or there's always castlefanfics on tumblr), but I won't apologise for writing what's right for this story. You assume incorrectly; at this point it would be inorganic to fabricate some wishy washy_ Harlequin Mills and Boon_ happy ending.**

**It's not my responsibility to make you happy. I'm just a fanfic writer. That's a lot of pressure. Can't I just do my thing and if you like it, great; if you don't, you have a right to express that? But perhaps you should wait to read the actual ending before making judgements on what you think is going to happen (unless you read the tumblr spoilers I posted a while back and you know the ending, in which case,_ shhhhh_, it's a secret).**

**It's not simply a case of "letting them be happy". The characters go through challenges, arcs, journeys, that's what makes a story. The way things leave off feels right to me.**

**I'll leave it up to you whether or not you want to keep reading and respect your decision either way.**

* * *

**_**Beta Remarks** _**

**_Admittedly, when that crazy Aussie Lou assigned me, Cofkett, first sent me chapter one of this story, I was as confused as anyone else. I write a lot of AU, but never one in which Rick and Kate are so far apart and Josh gets the girl. I'm not a Josh hater. I never saw him as a bad guy, Kate would not have stayed with him as long as she did otherwise. This has been a long, strange trip for my first official go as a beta. _**

**_Please let this story be what it is. It isn't one that I would have written, but it is an interesting character study. Richard Castle does love Kate Beckett enough to let her go. He's proven it... twice._**

**_Shutterbug5269_**

* * *

**Cofkett: Hey, I don't think Lou's Aussie, she lives in New Zealand! Wait. Oh. ;) Yeah, I'm crazy. Crazy like a frog!**

**Shutterbug doesn't know much more about where this is going than the rest of you. He ****_does_**** know what's actually going on in terms of what's happened to Castle, but nothing else about the plot or the direction of the story or how it will end. **

**Please don't pester Shutterbug about what's really going on. He may not even remember; I told him a while ago. Pester me.**

**We're not even close to done yet, so buckle your hats. Wait... that's not right. Meh, some hats have buckles.**


	13. Always Connected

**Wow, the response to the last chapter was overwhelming, thanks so much. I'm glad to know that for the most part, my readers trust my judgment and where I'm going with this story. I'm curious, though, anon who left that review I was responding to: it wasn't nasty or anything, you have every right to express your feelings, but where is your head now? Are you still reading? Are you willing to give this story a shot? I'd like to know.**

**As I said, this is a love story. There is so much yet to come.**

* * *

_He could hear the thunder, could feel the damp warmth of her skin as she led him to his room, and he felt it, that awe, arousal, and tenderness. They paused at the foot of the bed and just stared at each other for a moment. He had watched this woman for nearly four years, and in that time he thought he'd seen every possible expression her face could make, but this was something he'd never seen. Was this how Kate Beckett looked when she was about to make love to a man?_

_Butterflies pooled in his belly. ''Make love'. Was this really going to happen? In his experience, generally, when a woman turned up on his doorstep and started kissing him,saying she wanted him, it meant that woman wanted to have sex._

_But there was awe and vulnerability in her eyes. This was Kate Beckett. She would normally take charge, he'd reasoned. She would normally want all the control. But the way she was looking at him now, it was evident that control was the last thing on her mind. She was surrendering, not just to him, but to her own desires, to them, to the moment._

_She reached out to touch him again, stroking his face gently with the tips of her fingers. Castle stared at her in wonder, watching as she slowly lowered the side of her unbuttoned shirt past her right shoulder. He followed her movement, gently tucking her hair behind her ear. She moved with him, inviting his touch._

_They proceeded by instinct now. He moved towards her as she fell back onto the bed and then he was on top of her and it wasn't because they'd been forced into a compromising position by a case, she actually wanted this. Her motivations for wanting it could be discussed later, but right now, she wanted him, and who was he to deny her, especially since he'd desperately wanted to give her all of himself for such a long time?_

_She reached up to kiss him, and he engaged her willingly. He would happily spend the rest of the night doing nothing but kissing her on his bed. Admittedly, his pants were a little tight right now but he wasn't going to rush her. However, she was already unbuttoning his shirt, exploring the skin beneath as her tongue grazed his, her lips soft and firm at the same time. He shrugged it off, allowing her to pull the sleeves off his arms, both kicking off their shoes as they did so._

_She arched against him as he disposed of her blouse and his pants became even tighter at the feel of her skin on his. He felt her mouth pulling away from his and he allowed it, staring down at her._

_Her gaze never left his face as her fingers crawled down to his belt. He watched in silence, his breathing shallow, as she unbuckled it and unzipped his fly. He caught her hands as they tried to venture beneath his boxers, kissing her fingers before deftly removing her bra. He let her go and shucked his bottoms, finally allowing her to touch him intimately. She lowered her gaze, transfixed as she explored him there for the first time._

_He was heavily aroused as he caressed her. She moaned and he had to resist the urge to take her right then._

_Beckett unzipped her own jeans impatiently, kicking them off._

_Castle's eyes met hers as he reached below to the final barrier between them. She was so, so ready for him._

_He slowly slid the fabric down her thighs and off her body, and now she was naked below him. He lowered his lips to her ear and whispered, "Just one moment, beautiful."_

_She kissed his cheek and nodded._

_"Hurry back," she whispered in response._

_As he got up he realised he was still wearing socks and quickly removed them before attending to his task. He returned with protection, quickly retrieving it from its packet and sheathing himself._

_They kissed again, Kate eagerly pressing her fingers into his back._

_He looked down at her, a silent question in his eyes. Her answer was to take hold of him and guide to where she wanted him._

_For a moment neither moved, the ragged sounds of each others breathing and the rumbling of thunder outside the only noises to be heard. This was it. This was big. This was them. There was no turning back. If she ran again, it would be the last time._

_Then she kissed him, and with a deep sigh, he began to move, cupping her face with both hands. Her own hands slipped down to guide his rhythm, and he took her ripe flesh into his mouth._

_Beckett brushed her lips against his collarbone as he did so and guided his hand just above where they were joined, showing him how she liked to be touched. He changed his angle, heart thundering. Beckett was moaning. Beautiful, strong, kind, extraordinary, fascinating, sexy, maddening Kate Beckett, was crying out at his touch. He was inside her and she was about to lose control, because of him. Because of what he was doing to her._

_She sobbed and he grunted a few moments later as he collapsed on top of her._

_Slowly, he rolled off of her, avoiding eye contact. He didn't want to look at her, for fear of seeing shame or regret on her face. He sat up._

_"Shower," he said softly, before standing up and leaving her, disposing of the used latex on the way to the bathroom. He didn't want to leave her. He wanted to stay with her. All night long. Forever. But he didn't know what she wanted from him now that he had given her his body, and truthfully, he wasn't ready to find out. What if the answer was nothing? What if she was done with him now?_

* * *

_He could still smell her on his skin, in his very pores, feel her in his soul. It would take more than soap and water to wash away Kate Beckett. He could still hear her keening, could still taste her skin, could still feel her lithe body against his. He closed his eyes as the water cascaded over him. When he opened them, she was there, in the shower, in front of him._

_He'd retreated in here to be away from her, because he wasn't ready to face her, not ready to hear her tell him that this had been a mistake, that she still wasn't ready, because then he would have to walk away from her for good, and next time there would be no getting him back._

_If she was going to say any of those things, they didn't appear to be on her mind now. He hadn't heard her come in, had been so absorbed in his thoughts he hadn't been aware of anything else._

_They had made love in the dark. Now, in full light, he could see just how beautiful she was, from the faint scars on her chest from the bullet and near her ribs from the surgery to remove it, to her firm, round breasts to an ass that didn't fucking quit. She had more curves than the clothes she wore showed off. She was beautiful. Of course, he noticed the bruises, which he guessed had something to do with her almost dying, and he was momentarily angry at her for being so reckless, but she was here now, and she'd said she didn't care about going after her shooter, so he accepted it for now._

_He was determined to find that tattoo, but that could wait for later._

_Castle kissed her under the water. She smiled against his lips and sighed. He continued to kiss his way down her body, and by the time she'd realised what he was doing, his tongue was already on her as he worked to bring her to a pleasurable state that caused her to call his name as her hands fisted in his hair._

* * *

_He liked the next part. She had let him wash her hair. It had been an incredibly intimate act, which was saying something given everything she'd already let him do to her, but this was Kate Beckett's hair, and she had let him wash it for her and blow dry it. She had protested a little at first, but he didn't want her going to sleep with wet hair. She could catch a cold. Dry, her hair had reverted to its natural wavy state, which made her look even more gorgeous._

_They'd both donned robes, she taking his spare and now he stared at her for a moment, contemplating his next move._

_Was what he wanted to do a good idea? It could really do his back in. On the other hand, she was worth it._

_She squealed in surprise as he swept her up off her feet and into his arms. He was strong enough to hold her, and she weighed little enough that she wasn't hurting his back - too much- and this time, she was not fighting him like she had done the last time he'd had occasion to carry her. He had been right. This was totally romantic. He carried her to the bed, kissed her forehead and left momentarily. When he returned with more protection, she flipped their positions. She looked so content at being connected to him. He kissed her belly from below. She started to ride him. He'd thought, what with their earlier encounter and the position they were in, he'd last a lot longer. But it turned out that the glorious sight of Kate Beckett on top of him, her breasts bouncing, her head thrown back in pleasure, was enough to circumvent all of that, and soon he was overcome by pleasure. She smiled down at him as he reached for her bundle of nerves, ensuring that she felt the same pleasure._

* * *

_When he woke up, it was still dark, and it was still raining, but if he wasn't mistaken, one thing that was different was that Beckett's mouth was on him. He reached down to bring her up to meet him, sitting up. He quickly sheathed himself again before their legs curled around each other. This time, he went wild with her, so hard the bed rocked. Beckett wasn't complaining. Now they kissed passionately, arms wrapped around each other as they both reached completion at around the same time._

_She clung to him afterwards, reluctantly allowing him to get up to dispose of the protection but eagerly taking him back into her arms. Kate Beckett was a cuddler. Who would have known?_

* * *

_He woke again to find that his hand had ended up on her breast while he'd slept. He moved it away, but Beckett took hold of his wrist and placed it back were it had been._

_He smiled._

_"Do you want me to set an alarm for you so you can get up for work?" he asked her._

_"No need," she replied. "I quit."_

_He stiffened. She'd almost died. She'd quit her job. She was turning her back on her mother's case. She was in crisis. What if he was just her way of coping? What if that was all tonight had meant to her?_

_"I love you," she said next._

_Castle shook his head on confusion. No, that wasn't right. This wasn't how it had happened. She hadn't said anything else after telling him she quit, they had fallen asleep and she'd brought him a cup of coffee in the morning._

_"I should have said it then. I should have said it every day, because I meant it every day."_

_He didn't know quite what was happening here, but she looked like she was crying, and his instinct was to comfort her._

_"I knew, Kate. I mean, maybe not that night, but every night afterwards. I knew."_

_"We should be married now," she sobbed. " I was so ready. I was so ready to be your wife."_

_He held her close._

_"I was ready to be your husband. I still am."_

_She shook her head._

_"No you're not."_

_"Yes I am, Kate. I love you. I love you so much."_

_She stroked his face. " Yeah," she said softly. "I know you do, but this isn't the you I'm going to wake up to."_

_Castle stared down at her. "What are you talking about?"_

_"I'm trying to be patient, Castle. I'm trying, but I'm sick of being patient, I'm sick of waiting. We both waited so long. I know it's not your fault they took you, what happened to you, what they did to you, but I..."_

_"I want to come back to you, Kate," he said, " I just don't know how."_

_"Then, fight Castle. Fight for me. Please. Fight for us."_

_"I promise," he whispered._

* * *

He didn't want to open his eyes. This time, he knew he was really awake. The end of the dream had been so odd. Most of the dream had been a perfect reenactment of their first night together, a memory.

But towards the end... He didn't know what that was. Perhaps it was his subconscious telling him he shouldn't give up on Kate. Making a decision, he got out of bed. Maybe he was crazy, but he was going to take his daughter's advice.

He was going to make an appointment with Kate's law firm. But first, he needed to take a long, cold shower.

* * *

_**This was my way of writing for the Always Deleted Scene whilst still having it count towards my ficathon word-count. I'm so sneaky.**_


	14. Confessions

**There's a nice little call-back to Suckerpunch in this chapter.**

* * *

Kate sighed as she sat at her desk. It'd been a rough few months but they'd finally reached a settlement. It was bitter-sweet. She'd stopped her client from being sued, which was what she'd been paid to do, but she rarely got to see the inside of a courtroom and was partly disappointed it hadn't gone past the hearing stage. Of course, it had been her own choice back in law school to pursue corporate law, but arguing cases was in her blood, she couldn't deny that.

Taking a sip of her coffee, she looked over her schedule for the day and nearly spat it out, not just because it was God-awful - though it was - but also because she had a one o'clock appointment with _Richard Castle. _Her assistant, Ruby, often made appointments with current and perspective clients on her behalf, and with her case-load, not to mention wedding planning, it wasn't unusual for Kate to be unaware of it until close to the appointment. She had known that she was meeting with someone at one, but hadn't known who_. _There was something unsettling about this entire thing: his thin excuse for wanting to meet with her mother, the way he had looked at her at dinner and now he was showing up at her work.

Ok, he wasn't here yet; ok, he had an appointment and ok, he'd used his real name, but still, there was something not quite right about the man. It was clear from his well-publicised actions of late that he wasn't exactly in a stable frame of mind, and Kate wondered what he wanted with her family - _with her._ Curiosity overpowered her fears and she decided against cancelling the appointment. She was _very _interested to hear what Richard Castle had to say for himself.

* * *

Ruby had let her know that Richard Castle had arrived, but that had been about five minutes now and her perspective client wasn't in her office.

"Ruby, where's my one o'clock?" she asked over the intercom.

"_Um... He's a little occupied at the moment."_

"Oh, is he using the restroom?"

_"Actually, he's... Cleaning the coffee-pot_."

Kate narrowed her eyebrows.

"He's what-now?"

_"Cleaning the coffee pot. He says he'll be finished soon."_

"Well as long as he'll be finished soon."

_"Ok._"

"I'm being sarcastic, Ruby!" She sighed and got up, coming out to investigate.

It was just as Ruby had said. Richard Castle - multi-millionaire, best-selling author, Richard Castle- was in the staff kitchen, cleaning out the communal coffee pot.

Kate narrowed her eyebrows' arms crossed.

"Mr. Castle."

He froze instantly at the sound of her voice and turned slowly to face her.

"Are you applying for a position here or are you here for an appointment?"

"Yes," he replied. "Uh, to the second thing. I just...your assistant offered me a cup of coffee, and I tasted it and nobody should have to suffer such agony for their taste buds. I wondered when it had been cleaned last, she mentioned nobody cleans it _ever_ and I had to act."

"Well, that's all very well and good, Mr. Castle, but you're five minutes late."

Mr. Castle looked from her to the coffee pot and slowly put it down, quickly washing his hands at the sink and following her back to the office.

"That was rather embarrassing," he chuckled, sitting down as she closed the door. "I don't normally - "

"What exactly are you playing at, Mr. Castle?"

"Playing? What? Me? No. I'm not playing anything. W - what are you talking about?"

Kate shook her head in a hug as she stepped behind her desk. She didn't sit down.

"What am I talking about? Why did you come to my family's cabin, why couldn't you keep your eyes off me the other night at dinner and what does a published writer need a corporate lawyer for?"

"Well, I've always wanted to own a bar - "

She looked him straight in the eye.

"Mr. Castle, no more jokes. I want the truth."

He looked back up at her and sighed.  
"You won't believe the truth."

"Try me."

He shrugged.  
"Ok. What have I got to lose? The answers to all of your questions are the same. I love you, Kate."

She stared back at him.  
"I'm sorry, what?"

"And that's not even the crazy part."

"How can you love somebody you don't know?

He pointed at her.  
"_That's _the crazy part. I do know you, Kate, very well. Sort of. I'm from a different reality, a reality in which you and I are engaged, and I don't know how I got here or how I will get back, but believe me when I say, Kate, I love you."

Kate nodded slowly.  
"O... K. Mr. Castle, you've been through a lot - "

"I'm not crazy, Kate. This is real. I know it's a lot to take in, but Kate, I miss you. I miss you so much. I miss the way you look at me, like I'm an idiot, but you love me anyway, I miss working with you, I miss your goofy laugh - "

As crazy as he sounded, she interrupted him in spite of herself.

"I do _not _have a goofy laugh."

"Yes, you do, Kate, you sound like a seal ate a duck - but it's adorable. I miss us, Kate. The other night I dreamt about us, about the first night we made love -"

Kate's eyes bulged.

_Oh my god. _She reached for her phone.

"That's it, I'm calling security."

"No, it's ok," he said, getting up. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I'm freaking you out, I know. I'll leave. But Kate, know that I would never try to hurt you."

With that he turned his back and left, leaving her dumbfounded in his wake.

* * *

She didn't know how she managed to get any work done after he left. At the end of the day , she headed straight for her parent's cabin, knowing that Josh would be working late. Her Dad, as usual, was out fishing when she got there. Johanna was pleasantly surprised to see her. Her mother welcoming her inside, she listened patiently as her daughter recounted the crazy incident.

"Well, you've had an interesting day, haven't you?"

"Mom! This is serious."

"I don't doubt that it is, sweetheart."

"What am I going to do? Mom, you've dealt with your fair share of crazies in your time."

She chuckled.

"I highly doubt Mr. Castle is crazy. Eccentric, perhaps, but he seems perfectly sane to me."

"What kind of sane man believes he's from an alternate reality?"

"I don't know, Katie. Perhaps one that's telling the truth?"

Kate stared at her mother, Gobsmacked.  
"What are you saying, that you believe his story?"

Johanna chose her next words carefully.  
"What I'm saying is that we don't have enough information to rule out the possibility."

"Seriously? Mom, you're a woman of logic and reason. How can you buy into this crap?"

"Katie, what am I always telling you?"

"Vincit Omnia Veritas?"

"Not that, the other thing."

"Always go the bathroom before a deposition?"

"No, Katie, the other thing."

"We can never assume we have all the answers?"

"Bingo. This is a huge universe, and we're just a tiny speck in comparison to its vastness. How arrogant is it of us to assume it's the only one? Richard Castle does have a certain... other-worldly quality to him. And I certainly didn't miss the way he looked at you the other night at dinner. If I hadn't known better I would have sworn he was a man in love and, after hearing what he told you, i don't know... maybe he is."

"So... you think I should... Find out more about him before I make any judgements?" she asked tentatively.

"On the contrary, dear, you should probably stay as far away from him as possible," Johanna said.

"Why?" Kate replied.

"Katie, you know I adore Joshua, you two have a whole future ahead of you and I'd hate to see that jeopardised by some cosmic glitch. If Mr. Castle is telling the truth, then his being here is against the natural order of things. It also means you might have it in you to fall in love with him. My advice would be to avoid Mr. Castle at all costs in order to preserve the great relationship that you have."

* * *

As wonderful as Johanna seemed, Castle really wasn't in the mood to hear from her - or anyone really, but the fact that she was the mother of the woman who'd just that afternoon had stamped on his heart and crushed it into tiny pieces was working against her - tonight. But there her name was, on his phone, signalling his inevitable doom. Not really, but he was in a cynical mood.

"Castle," he answered, trying to keep the self-loathing and depression out of his voice.

"Mr. Castle, I've heard back from my friends about the Alhabi case," Johanna stated.

"Oh?" Castle said, feigning interest.

"Yes," Johanna continued. "it seems that all information related to the case has been restricted, and they've been asked to hand over all their notes. It would seem that the FBI is launching a full inquiry into homeland security's handling of the case and looking over the evidence. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

Castle sighed.  
"As a matter of fact I would," he said, beyond pretense at this point.

"Care to elaborate on that?" Johanna asked.

"Not particularly."

"Mr. Castle, Katie told me about your situation and I'm truly sorry. It must be terrible." Johanna actually sounded sympathetic.

"You believe me?" Castle asked

"I do," she said plainly. "For what it's worth."

"If only your daughter were as open-minded," he replied.

"To be fair, it's a lot to swallow, plus she's in a committed relationship."

Castle groaned.  
"Must you remind me?"

"I'm just telling you the truth, Mr. Castle. The truth can't hurt you."

"Tell that to my heart," he replied sadly. Even from the other side of the line, she could probably tell it was breaking.

"Oh, Mr. Castle, I really wish I could give you a hug."

"So do I. I wish I could have gotten to know you better." he said, before his brain could catch up with his mouth, regretting it instantly.

There was a pause on the other end, he could tell she wouldn't let it drop.

"Why would you say that?" she asked finally.

" Say what?" he asked, hoping she would not pursue her line of questioning. Then he reminded himself he was speaking to a former lawyer.

"Why would you wish you could get to know me better? If you're engaged to my daughter in another world, wouldn't we _already _know each other quite well?"

_Shit. Oh, shit. _

Castle ran a hand through his hair. _This day just keeps getting better and better, _he thought to himself.

"I've already said too much," he said.

"Mr. Castle, am I - ?" He could hear the shock and heartbreak in her voice now.

"Trust me, there are some truths that _can_ hurt us, some things we're better off _not _knowing."

"Well... What about Katie? _Your_ Katie? Is - is she ok?" he could sense her tears on the other end now.

"I don't know," Castle said. "That's what drives me nuts. I _want_ to know, more than anything, that she is ok, but I'm _here_."

"Without me- " she began, but Castle cut her off.

"You don't want to hear this," he warned her.

" I have to," she said. "Please."

"It put her on a different path," he told her.

"A path that led to you?" she asked

"Among other things." He knew he shouldn't be putting this burden on her. It wasn't fair.

"Just before you came here - " she began.

"She was happy," he told her. "We both were. It was out _wedding_ day. I had just spoken to her on the phone. The last words we said to each other were, _"I love you."_

He could hear her crying, now, and he felt terrible. It was quite clear where Beckett had gotten her huge heart from.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Don't be," she said. "Thank you. Thank you so much, Mr. Castle, for being there when I couldn't."

And therein lay the rub, didn't it? Him or her mother. As much as he knew how much Beckett loved him, given the choice he knew she'd choose her mother over him, just as he'd choose Alexis over her. It wasn't a happy choice, or an easy one, but what if the universe had made Kate an offer she couldn't refuse, and _he_ was the price?

What if this place, _a universe in which, she'd never known or fallen in love with him_, was Kate's perfect world?


	15. Home

**Snaps to my ficathon beta partner shutterbug5269, everybody, for hitting 50,000 words with Ten Weeks of the Ripper!**

**I added a sentence he suggested several chapters ago that I felt would make more sense here.**

**Also, I appreciate all your reviews and PMs with your great theories and discussions! It means a lot to me that my little story has gotten you thinking. No matter how the story turns out, I've loved reading all of them, without exception, I hope you all realise that. I've tried to communicate that in my responses, but if not let me make it clear, I respect and enjoy your opinions!**

* * *

Another call, this time from an unknown number. He sighed.

"Castle," he answered.

"How dare you?"

He sat up.

"Kate?"

"It's one thing if you want to bother me, but keep your crazy away from my mother. Do you know how upset she was after you called her?"

"She called me, actually."

"Well it doesn't matter. You told her that she died? Seriously? What is wrong with you?"

"I'm sorry. "

"Yeah well... You should be! Just... Stay away from my mother and stay away from me."

"Wait," he said, knowing how close she was to hanging up. If this was the last chance he had to talk to her, there was something she should know - if it was even applicable here.

"Mr. Castle, I am this close to calling the police - and I know you can't see me, but my thumb is less than an inch from my finger, that is how close I am to doing it."

"I haven't actually committed a crime, Ms. Beckett. I have one last thing to say, then I promise, you can hang up, and I will never bother you again."

"You have thirty seconds."

He took a deep breath.

"If you ever took a trip to Vegas with a guy named Rogan O'Leary, you may want to check to make sure you're not married to him."

There was a pause.

"How do you know about that? No one knows about that except my fiancé. My mother doesn't even know about that."

"It doesn't matter how I know. If you went through a drive-though, and you were drunk, there would have been no paperwork so maybe you didn't think it was official, but it still would have been put on record. If you're still married, you'll need to end it before you can marry Josh."

A stunned silence followed.

He sighed.

"Alright, that's all I wanted to say. Have a good life, Kate. Be happy."

He hung up before she had a chance to say anything else.

Enough, he told himself.

He had to move on. Had to accept the painful truth. It was over.

* * *

Kate stared at the phone. How could he possibly have known about her marriage to

Rogan O'Leary? She hadn't known about it herself until her second year of law school when she'd discovered that it was possible to be married without the bride and groom having to sign the wedding certificate in some circumstances. She'd looked into it, just to make sure she wasn't married to Rogan, only to discover, to her horror, that she was.

She'd had to pay a hefty price to get Rogan to sign the divorce papers, but by then she'd had access to her trust fund and had been able to put the whole mess behind her.

She hadn't really thought about it that much since until just now. Of course, Josh knew about it - they didn't keep secrets - but no one else did, and they'd quickly moved on from it. How the hell did Richard Castle know about that? Had he been digging into her past? Had he tracked down Rogan? There was something that just didn't add up there. He didn't sound like he was trying to manipulate her, he sounded... resigned - as if he really wanted her to be happy.

Kate shook her head. She wasn't actually considering the possibility that he was telling the truth, was she? It was crazy. Impossible.

Wasn't it?

* * *

Castle hid beneath the covers, trying to block out the morning light of the sun. The night before, he had willed her back into his dreams, to no avail - at least, not that he could remember, and now it was morning, and he didn't want to get up, didn't want to face the world.

She didn't love him, and she never would. He knew he had to get up eventually; he had plans later in the day.

He finally had to get up when he realised the clip in his bandage had come off. He half-heartledly searched the bed for about five minutes before deciding it was probably time for them to come off now any way.

When he heard the knock at the door, he was in a thoroughly tangled mess. Somehow, he managed to open the door, but the hazel eyes staring back at him were the last thing he'd thought he'd ever see again.

"Kate." It was as if all the love he had for her was contained in that one syllable, the way he spoke her name.

Kate stared at his joined hands.

"If this is a bad time - " she whispered.

"Um... No, not at all," he replied.

"May I come in?" she asked, as if she ever had to ask, even in this hell he had been deposited into by an uncaring universe - multiverse? - someone or something really mean, any way.

He stared at her for only a moment before swinging the door wide to admit her into his home.

"Yes."

She nodded and stepped slowly inside, closing the door behind her, herself.

"Uh, please, have a seat." He waved toward the couch in the living room.

They awkwardly sat down together.

He took a deep breath, curious about what had actually brought her to his door. She'd said she never wanted to see him again and he'd promised to leave her alone.

"So..."

"How did you know about Rogan?" she asked, cutting him off.

Castle avoided eye contact with her.

"Kate, I know that you'll never accept this, and that's ok. You only believe in the everyday magic of life. Things that you can see, hear and touch. Well, you can't see or touch whatever brought me here, or where I am from, so you'll never be able to believe me. And that's ok. Go back to Josh, back to your life. Forget all about me. Forget you ever heard of me. Live your life and be happy."

"I can't," she admitted. "I spent all night thinking about it and I can't let it go. It doesn't make any sense for you to know about Rogan ... regardless of what I believe in. Even the fact that you know I exist in the first place makes no sense. I mean, you tracked down my Mom so you could find me, right? How did you even know about me?"

"Kate, you don't have to know the answers to everything. Sometimes it's ok to have a little mystery," he said half-heartedly with his head downcast, his eyes closed, wishing she would just go away. That she would just leave him alone to pick up the broken pieces of this hellish mirror universe life in peace. Seeing her hurt too much. Knowing she had never loved him... that she loved someone else... Josh Davidson of all people... hollowed him out too deeply.

"That's not good enough," she persisted. "I need to know."

Castle sighed. This Kate was like his, stubborn as a mule. Once she decided she needed to know, nothing would dissuade her.

"I know, because when we tried to get our marriage license, the record showed that you were already married to another man, so we had to get him to sign dissolution of marriage papers."

"So.. It's... In this other world... We're married?" she asked incredulously.

"Engaged. I was kidnapped on our wedding day," he said.

She raised her eyebrows.

"Yeah, crazy stuff like that happens to us sometimes. Any way, I was locked away, I don't know for how long, tied to a chair, and the next thing I knew, I was here. At first I thought that it was all some crazy dream and you'd be here when I woke up... but you weren't."

She stared at him, mesmerised by his story. She had compassion... even for this stranger who knew too much about her life for her liking. He knew if he looked into her eyes he would see it... The sympathy, the pity... So he didn't.

"Are you starting to believe me, Miss. Beckett?" he dared to whisper.

She sighed. "I don't know what to believe - " she cracked a smile. "But I do know I can't have this conversation with you looking that ridiculous."

He looked down at his hands and allowed a low chuckle.

"Right. Yeah. I uh - "

"Here," she said, unravelling his right hand.

Castle finally looked at her, taken aback by her touch.

She rewound the bandage around her own hand as she carefully began to unwrap his injured hand.

It reminded him of the time in the ambulance after he'd beaten Lockwood to within an inch of his life... The medic had wrapped it too tightly and Beckett had re-wrapped it for him... made it better...

"So how did you really hurt your hand, Mr. Castle?" she asked, taking him out of his reverie.

"I.. Uh... I told you, you, I punched a lion in the face."

"Then how come you don't have any other injuries? Big-ass lion, I would expect at least some scratches on your face or something."

He smiled wryly.

"Because it wasn't a real lion. It was a portrait. I've had it since I signed with Black Pawn back in the early nineties. I kept in in my room, for good luck. I loved that portrait. Called him Linus."

Beckett snorted.

"Linus?"

"Yes, Linus," Castle said, unashamedly. "You couldn't stand him. He freaked you out, especially when you woke up in the morning. I moved him into my study, and replaced him with the seashells we collected our first weekend away together, framed. When I woke up, they were gone, and Linus was back. After a few days, I couldn't stand looking at him anymore. It reminded me that you weren't there, that every physical trace of you was gone from my life, so I snapped... And well... Voila."

Kate sat in silence, her full attention on his hand, but he could see the wheels turning in her head. When she finally removed the bandage to reveal he had healed, though the skin was still a little red, she softly tapped his hand, sending a pool off warmth radiating throughout his body, and whispered,"Good as new."

"Thank you," he said, replacing her hand with his own as she put the bandage on his coffee table.

"Do you still have it?" she asked.

"Excuse me?"

"The portrait. You still have it?"

"I... Yeah, in the closet in my study."

"Show me," she said.

Castle nodded slowly and led her into his office, opening the storage closet to reveal the smashed frame, which still had a bit of blood on the glass.

"I don't usually lose control like that..." he said weakly.

Kate turned to him.

"I believe you, Mr. Castle."

He stared at her.

"You do?"

"Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe it's impossible. But I can't disprove your story. It seems like you truly believe it, and that may make you crazy, but you know things you shouldn't."

He felt himself warming. She believed him. He wanted to cry. She believed him.

"Mr. Castle, I still don't know you very well. I don't want to hurt you. But I love Josh... So... I am incredibly sorry. I will still read your books, I love them - but it's probably best if we never see each other again."

Castle nodded.

"You're right..." He swallowed. "I don't want to mess up your life, Kate."

She nodded.

"So, I should go."

"Yeah," he agreed, "that's probably best."

They walked back out to the door.

"Is he good to you?" he asked. He had to know.

"Very," she assured Castle.

"And you're happy?"

"Not at this moment, no. But with my life? Yes, I'm happy."

"That's all I want, Kate. I know you don't need or want my love, but you have it."

"Thank you," she said sincerely. "Thank you for loving me. I'm sorry for the pain that it causes you, but I'm grateful and honoured." She exhaled. "I really hope you find your way back to her," she said sincerely. "The other me."

"Me, too," he said, opening the door.

"Goodbye, Mr. Castle," she said, reaching out her hand.

"Goodbye," Castle said, taking it gently, before watching her walk out of his loft and out of his life - exactly where this Kate belonged.

* * *

He had changed clothes when Alexis came out for lunch.

"You're looking dapper, today."

"Thank you," he said.

"Dad are you ok?"

"I said goodbye to Kate today. She believed me, but she has her own life here, and I have to let her live it."

"Oh, Dad, I'm sorry. Maybe it's for the best."

"How about you? " he asked, eager to change the subject. "How are you doing post-Max?"

"Well, actually, I called this guy this morning that I met in Costa Rica."

Castle's head snapped up.

"Costa Rica?"

"Yeah, I was with Max at the time, so when he gave me his number, I took it but I never called him. Now, though, I thought, why not? He's not my usual type at all, but he's sweet, funny and he's really passionate about important issues. He lives in Amsterdam."

"We... It's uh, good that you're... Expanding your horizons, sweetie," he said, disappointed that he couldn't at least find solace in a world without Pi.

"So where are you off to?" She asked.

"A boat show," he replied.

"You already have a boat," she pointed out.

"Yes, I love my boat."

"You hardly ever use it."

"But when I rock those waves, I rock them hard, sweetie."

"So why are you going to a boat show?" she pressed.

"Just having a look."

* * *

Castle arrived home and had an early dinner. Part of him was happy about what he had done today - it felt right - but it hadn't managed to take his mind off the fact that he didn't belong here. Much as he loved these versions of his mother and daughter, much as he'd loved seeing Roy again, and meeting Johanna, this was not his home, and as he kicked off his shoes and crawled into bed, he knew that ultimately that was all he wanted. To go home.

* * *

Rick felt the sunlight warm his skin and smiled. It was a new day. Yes, he missed Alexis, but the Alexis in this world was essentially the same person, and as much as he loved her, he knew wherever his little girl was, she was smart and capable enough to do anything she wanted, she didn't need her old man cramping her style. He reached across the bed to drape his arm around Beckett, but was met only with cool sheets.

He opened his eyes and was stunned and disoriented to find that he was not on a private island in the Maldives, but rather, the loft. It was a twenty hour flight flack, how was that possible?

He got out of bed and went to the bathroom, shocked by the image staring back at him in the mirror. He was much thinner, his hair shorter. He looked like... Him. The way he had been before he'd woken up in that chair, and then that hospital bed, before everything he knew had been turned upside down, and it now looked as though it had happened again. He removed his shirt to confirm what he already knew.

His skin was bare, unmarked by the cigarette burns he didn't remember receiving but which had been there when he'd gone to sleep, their absence confirming his suspicions. He was back.

Rick was back.


	16. The Other Rick

**Obviously, I did not make the 50,000 word goal, but I will continue, and I'd like to thank Lou and Berkie for running the ficathon, and my beta Shutterbug5269 for taking the writing to another level. I know that it's a bit confusing right now, but some of you are starting to understand what's going on. :)**

* * *

Rick dressed in a daze.

_So this is it, then, _he thought to himself.

He had been allowed this short reprieve, and now he was back. He supposed it was a fair trade, though he wished he hadn't wasted so much time being... _himself_. He could have had more time together with Beckett.

Instead, he had been disoriented and confused and had questioned his amnesia diagnosis... and though he had been right, what did it matter? He'd had a beautiful woman who wanted him and all he had cared about was getting the damn answers, as usual, no matter the cost.

He sighed as he sat at the end of his bed. His brief stint in an alternate reality had shed light on so many things, and he owed apologies to so many people, he knew that now.

Though he may have been right about the Syrians having nothing to do with the dirty bombing, there were so many better ways he could have gone about helping to prove their innocence rather than pointing the finger at his own government.

He had to face the consequences of his actions. He owed it to the world, and to himself.

As for Kate Beckett... God, he hoped she was real here. He hoped he would be able to find her.

* * *

His mother and daughter were sitting around the kitchen counter eating breakfast. His daughter. Why hadn't she gone back to college yet? Had she just come back for the Summer? He checked the newspaper and the date was the same as it had been in the other world, give or take a day or two, time zones and the fact that it was the next day no doubt being factors. So, if time had kept going, what did that mean?

Alexis looked up.

"Good Morning, Dad, are you feeling better?"

"Richard, have some juice," Martha said.

"Um... Uh, it's good to see you two," Rick said.

Alexis looked perplexed but Martha simply shrugged.

"Well of course it is, we're fabulous."

"This, um... This is going to sound odd," he said, not sure exactly how to phrase this, and wishing there were a pamphlet or website that told one what to do when in this situation.

"We've gotten used to that Dad," Alexis teased, standing up to kiss him on the cheek.

"Have I been acting weird over the past couple of weeks?" he asked boldly.

Martha and Alexis exchanged a glance.

"So, I guess, that's a yes?" he said, reading their expressions.

"Er... Why do you ask, Kiddo?" Martha asked.

"I... have had a very odd couple weeks," Rick summarized.

"You could say that again," Alexis said.

"I've had a very odd couple weeks," he repeated.

"Richard, perhaps you should sit down," Martha suggested.

Rick nodded, sitting down.

"I woke up in a different reality where I had never gotten cancer and I was engaged to a gorgeous detective," he explained.

Alexis stared at him.

"Dad?"

"Yes Pumpkin?" he said back.

"Is it you? " she asked, awe on her face. "Is it really you? You're back?"

He nodded slowly.

She threw her arms around him. He held her tightly. Here she was, his daughter, the one he'd raised, and she was ok.

"This is crazy!" Alexis remarked when she finally emerged from her father's embrace.

"You can say that again," Martha said, but she looked worried rather than scathing.

" Gram, Dad's not crazy," Alexis told her Grandmother. "The whole _situation_ is crazy."

"And what exactly is the situation?" Rick asked. "You seem to understand this better than I do."

"A switch," Alexis said softly. "At least, I think so. I don't know how but you switched places with another version of yourself."

"Really, Alexis?" Martha said. "Don't feed his delusions. This is starting to sound like science fiction."

"Yeah," Rick said, " really bad, soft science fiction."

"Not necessarily fiction, but science, maybe," Alexis said. "Theoretically, the idea of alternate universes is legitimate, though so far it's agreed travel between universes is impossible. However, you didn't physically travel there and back, it was mental. So... That actually makes a weird kind of sense."

"It does?" Martha asked.

"It does?" Rick echoed.

"Stick with me here," Alexis continued, "some research suggests the possibility of a telepathic link between identical twins. That's two people with the same DNA. Now we're talking about someone who shares not only your DNA, but who is essentially _you_ with circumstantial differences. You probably have the same fingerprints. So if there is a mental link between you and the alternate you, even if you may not have been consciously aware of it, that could explain how your minds could have swapped. But I'm only guessing here, as this is all theoretical."

Rick rubbed his head.

"My brain hurts."

"I think I need a drink,'" Martha said.

"Gram, it's not even nine a.m. yet," Alexis pointed out.

"I said I _needed_ one, I didn't say I would _have_ one," Martha countered her granddaughter.

"The other version of you, Dad, he told me about his world, where he came from," Alexis told her father. "It sounds like that's where you were."

Rick nodded slowly. Of course, why had that not occurred to him? He had figured he had been in an alternate reality, but it hadn't occurred to him where the other version of him had gone. He'd known that Beckett wanted him back, and had been certain her Castle was buried deep within him somewhere, but as it turned out, they had been living each other's lives. Jesus, this wasn't just a standard supernatural situation, this was some Twilight Zone crap.

"So... did he find her?" Rick asked.

"Did who find what, dear?" Martha asked.

"The other me. Did he find Kate Beckett?" There was no doubt in his mind that the other Rick Castle would have gone to the ends of the earth to find her.

"Yes," Alexis said, "he did, but... Dad, she's engaged to someone else. She's happy. So the other you decided to let her go. To let her be."

Engaged. To someone else. He had made love to her just last night. He had fallen asleep beside her and now she was suddenly out of his reach? It wasn't fair, he needed to see her... He needed closure.

* * *

Later in the day, Rick got a call from a _"Johanna"_. He blinked. Did he know a Johanna? Shrugging, he answered.

"Rick Castle."

"_Have you seen the news_?!" An excited voice greeted him.

"Um..." Rick said, unsure if he should ask who he was speaking to. "Haven't had a chance," he said finally.

"_Radford Hayes, aka Kevin McCann, has been charged along with six others for treason, mass murder and a host of other things. The Alhabis are going to be officially cleared. You did it!_"

Rick gripped the phone. He'd done it. Not _him_-he, the other he. The son of a bitch duplicate of him had actually done what he had spent two years trying to do in the space of two weeks.

_"I know it's been rough for you, what with Katie rejecting you and adjusting to this new life, but you actually made a difference in this world, and I am proud of you. So very proud_."

Rick's eyes bulged. This was a lot of information. Katie. Kate. New life. A difference in in _this _world. She knew? Who was this woman?

"Um... This is going to sound unusual, but... Who are you?"

There was a pause.

_"It's Johanna. Do you not remember me_?"

"The last couple of weeks are a little hazy," he said.

_"You... To whom am I speaking?_?" she asked.

"That's an excellent question," he said, "phrased in a grammatically correct way, so thank you. To answer your question, I'm not sure I know any more. You mentioned Kate. Where is she? Is she alright?"

"_She's fine,_" the woman replied. "_Do you know who I am?_"

"Johanna," he said.

"_That is my name. Do you know anything else about me?"_

"No," he admitted.

"_I'm Katie's mother."_

_Kate's mother. Her dead mother?_ His head spun. So, definitely not a booty call, then. Well, he hoped not.

"Please, can you tell me where I can find her?" he asked her.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Please, I know she's engaged, but I just spent two weeks with her and - ok, maybe it wasn't her, but at least let me say goodbye," he appealed to her.

Another pause.

"_This is the oddest conversation I've had in my life, and considering the last two weeks that's saying something._" She sighed. "_Ok, Mr. Castle. I'll give you her address. She should be home around seven tonight. Her fianc__é __usually works late."_

* * *

He was standing outside her building when she arrived.

Rick straightened. There she was. Kate Beckett. Trivial differences didn't disguise her beauty or her grace.

She froze.

"I thought we agreed - "

He held up his hand.

"I'm not who you think I am," he said.

She looked at him.

"Who are you then?

"Rick Castle," he said, "but not the one you've met. For the past two weeks I've been... somewhere else, a place where you and I are together, and I know you're with someone else here, and I don't want to cause you any problems. I just wanted to have a chance to say goodbye."

"So..." she said, trying to process what he told her. "The Richard Castle I have been talking to... He went back? He found his way back to her? To the other Kate Beckett? They're together again?"

"I think so," he said.

She smiled.

"Good. I'm glad."

He nodded, looking down.

"I probably don't want to know what you got up to while you were there, do I?" she asked.

"Probably not," he admitted.

She nodded, blushing slightly.

"Well... It's ok, but...whatever you experienced while you were there, I hope you understand it's over now."

He nodded.

"I heard the news," she said. "You were right all along. Congratulations."

"I wasn't completely right," he said. "It seems the alternate version of me did most of the work."

"Regardless, you stood by your convictions, when people called you crazy. That takes character," she told him.

"Thank you," he said, wishing she would stop saying nice things. He wanted to give them a try, see what would happen, but she was with someone else and that wasn't possible.

She held out her hand.

"I'll do this one more time. Goodbye, Mr. Castle."

"Rick," he said, taking her hand.

"Goodbye Rick."

"Goodbye, Kate Beckett."

Kate lay in bed, restless. Josh had come home and she'd explained everything to him. He'd been understanding and expressed his hope that Richard Castle could get the help he needed, and was glad that he had managed to prove the Alhabis innocent. They talked about other things, and later made love. She had fallen asleep, content in his arms.

She had awoken a few hours later, and for some reason, the entire crazy situation had popped back into her head. She'd thought she could move on, but now, she couldn't stop thinking of Richard Castle - both Richard Castles - and of that other world they had spoken of.

She was happy with this one, she truly was, and she had already decided not to see him again but knowing he was... gone, had more of an impact than she'd thought it would. She found herself wondering what it was like, what they were like as a couple, and as she was on the edge of sleep, she herself wished, for a split second, that she could have a glimpse of it.

If only.


End file.
